Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


https://archive.org/details/progressofdogrnab00orrj_0 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


“Till  we  all  attain  unto  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  full-grown  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of 
the  fulness  of  Christ.” — Eph.  iv.  i  . 


THE 


PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


BEING 


THE  ELLIOT  LECTURES,  DELIVERED  AT  THE 
WESTERN  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 
ALLEGHENY,  PENNA.,  U.S.A. 

1897 


BY 

JAMES  ORR,  M.A.,  D.D., 

PROFESSOR  OF  APOLOGETICS  AND  SYSTEMATIC  THEOLOGY 
UNITED  FREE  CHURCH  COLLEGE,  GLASGOW 


NEW  YORK 

A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  AND  SON 

3  &  5  WEST  EIGHTEENTH  STREET 
LONDON:  HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON 


1902 


Printed  by  R.  &  R.  CLARK,  LIMITED. 


PREFACE 


The  lectures  in  this  volume  were  delivered  in  the 
autumn  of  1897,  before  the  Western  Theological  Semin¬ 
ary,  Allegheny,  Pennsylvania,  U.S.A.,  and  the  Christian 
public,  as  the  fourth  course  in  a  series  of  lectures  pro¬ 
vided  for  by  the  Elliot  Lectureship  Fund.  They  are 
now  published,  at  request  of  the  Faculty,  practically  as 
delivered,  any  slight  changes  being  on  the  form,  not  on 
the  substance.  It  need  not  be  said  that  no  attempt  is 
made  to  deal  exhaustively  with  the  History  of  Doctrine. 
The  design  of  the  lectures  goes  no  further  than  to 
provide  broad  outlines,  which  may  suffice  to  illustrate  the 
principles  expounded  at  the  commencement,  and  serve 
as  an  introduction  to  the  subject.  The  lectures  met 
with  acceptance  at  the  time  of  their  delivery,  and  the 
author  is  not  without  hope  that  they  may  be  found 
useful  to  some  who,  without  being  professed  scholars, 
feel  an  intelligent  interest  in  the  trend  of  theological 
thought  through  the  centuries.  Their  object  will  be 
gained  if  the  conviction  is  implanted  that  here  also 
“  an  increasing  purpose  ”  runs  “  through  the  ages,” 
and  that  the  labour  spent  by  myriads  of  minds  on  the 
fashioning  of  dogma,  has  not,  as  so  many  in  our  day 
seem  to  think,  been  utterly  fatuous,  and  the  mere 
forging  of  fetters  for  the  human  spirit. 


VI 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


The  literature  on  the  subject  treated  of  is  enormous, 
and  valuable  additions  have  been  made  to  it  even  since 
the  lectures  were  delivered.  The  material  of  the  lectures 
is  so  much  the  accumulation  of  years  of  thought  and 
study,  that  acknowledgment  of  obligation  in  detail  is 
out  of  the  question,  and  has  not  been  attempted.  The 
course,  in  any  case,  was  not  intended  for  proficients,  but 
for  learners,  and  elaborate  references  to  literature  would 
not  have  been  in  place.  For  the  same  reason  notes 
have  been  sparingly  employed,  and  the  greater  part  of 
the  references  are  to  works  in  English,  or  of  which  trans¬ 
lations  into  English  exist.  Quotations  also,  for  con¬ 
venience,  are  invariably  given  in  translation,  though  the 
temptation  was  strong  sometimes  to  give  the  pithier 
words  of  the  original.  Greater  freedom  has  been  used 
in  the  references  to  such  works  as  Harnack’s  History  of 
Dogma ,  for  the  obvious  reason  that  one  object  of  the 
lectures  is  to  combat  certain  of  the  positions  of  that 
brilliant  author. 

In  dealing  with  so  wide  a  field,  involving  so  large  a 
mass  of  historical  and  literary  detail,  the  author  cannot 
hope  to  have  escaped  falling  into  errors  which  the  eyes 
of  experts  will  readily  detect.  He  can  only  trust  that 
they  do  not  relate  to  other  than  minor  points.  That 
his  general  standpoint  is  out  of  harmony  with  prevalent 
tendencies,  he  is  well  aware,  and  he  is  prepared  for  wide 
dissent  from  many  of  his  statements  and  conclusions. 
But  it  is  because  of  this  difference  of  view  the  lectures 
were  written.  They  must  rely  on  their  own  power  to 
produce  conviction. 

For  a  fuller  treatment  of  some  of  the  theological 


PREFA CE 


VII 


points,  the  author  may  refer  to  his  volume  on  The 
Christian  View  of  God  and  the  World  (5  th  edition, 
Andrew  Elliot,  Edinburgh)  ;  and  for  a  sketch  of  the 
history  and  literature  of  the  earlier  period,  to  a  Primer 
just  published  by  Messrs.  Hodder  and  Stoughton,  on 
The  Early  Church  ;  Its  History  and  Literature ,  between 
which  and  the  present  lectures,  as  proceeding  on 
similar  lines,  a  general  agreement  will  be  traced. 

I  am  indebted  to  the  Rev.  J.  M.  Wilson,  B.D. 
Glasgow,  for  kind  assistance  in  the  revision  of  the 
proofs. 

JAMES  ORR. 


Glasgow,  1901. 


CONTENTS 

LECTURE  I 

PAGE 

Idea  of  Course — Relation  of  Dogma  to  its  History 
— Parallelism  of  Logical  and  Historical  De¬ 
velopments  .  .  .  .  .1-32 

Introduction. 

Unity  of  nations  in  Christ. 

Fundamental  Problem — Is  there  a  recognisable  law  in  the 
progress  of  dogma,  and,  if  so,  what  aid  does  it  afford  in 
determining  our  attitude  to  theological  system  ? 

Is  there  dogmatic  truth?  Objections  : — 

(1)  Dogma  wholly  excluded  from  Christianity. 

(2)  Dogma  a  work  of  the  Greek  spirit. 

(3)  The  foundation  of  dogma  in  Scripture  destroyed  by 

criticism. 

View  of  the  lectures  :  there  is  a  doctrinal  content  in  Chris¬ 
tianity,  which  it  is  the  duty  of  the  Church  to  ascertain 
and  witness  for. 

I.  Dogma  as  an  evolution  in  history. 

Stability  of  dogmatic  products  implied  in  the  claim  of  theology 
to  be  a  “  science.” 

What  is  dogma?  Distinction  of  “  doctrine,”  “  dogma,”  and 
“  theology.” 

Need  of  criteria  of  dogmatic  products. 

(1)  Scripture  the  ultimate  test. 

Secondary  tests  :  organic  unity,  correlation  with  ex¬ 
perience,  verification  by  practical  results. 


X 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


(2)  Need  and  advantage  of  the  objective  test  furnished  by 
history. 

The  history  of  dogma  the  judgment  of  dogma. 
Application  of  the  law  of  “  survival  of  the  fittest  ”  to 
dogma — Bearing  on  existing  creeds. 

True  evolution  is  organic,  i.e.,  is  a  continuation  of  the 
developments  of  the  past,  not  a  reversal  of  them. 

II.  Parallelism  of  logical  and  historical  developments. 

Dr.  Newman’s  seven  tests  of  genuine  development. 

What  is  sought  is  the  immanent  law  of  the  actual  history. 
Comparison  of  scientific  and  logical  orders.  The  history  is 

but  the  system  “writ  large.” 

The  scientific  order  and  its  principle — the  simpler  precedes  the 
more  complex. 

History  obeys  the  same  law  :  hence  the  logical  and  temporal 
orders  correspond. 

Verification  by  periods  : — 

(1)  The  second  century  the  age  of  apologetics  and  vindica¬ 

tion  of  fundamental  ideas  of  religion. 

(2)  The  third  and  fourth  centuries  the  period  of  the  theo¬ 

logical  controversies  (doctrine  of  God). 

(3)  The  beginning  of  fifth  century  the  period  of  anthropo¬ 

logical  controversies  (Man  and  Sin). 

(4)  The  fifth  to  seventh  centuries  the  period  of  the  Christo- 

logical  controversies  (Person  of  Christ). 

(5)  The  eleventh  to  sixteenth  centuries  the  soteriological 

period  (doctrine  of  Atonement). 

(6)  The  sixteenth  century  the  period  of  controversies  on 

the  application  of  redemption  (Justification,  etc.). 

(7)  Peculiar  interest  of  our  modern  age  in  eschatology. 

III.  The  law  of  progress  as  a  test  of  dogma. 

Sound  dogmatic  development  must  recognise  its  connection 
with  the  past,  and  organically  unite  itself  with  it. 
Mistaken  assumptions  as  to  the  indefinite  possibilities  of 
progress. 

The  law  of  diminishing  returns  in  science  and  dogma. 


CONTENTS 


XI 


LECTURE  II 

PAGE 

Early  Apologetic  and  Fundamental  Religious 
Ideas — Controversy  with  Paganism  and  Gnos¬ 
ticism  (Second  Century)  .  .  .  33-70 

Double  conflict  of  the  Church  of  the  second  century  with  Pagan¬ 
ism  and  with  Gnosticism. 

Fundamental  identity  of  the  conflicts. 

In  both  the  Church  fighting  for  its  existence. 

In  both  driven  back  on  fundamental  ideas. 

I.  The  conflict  of  the  Church  with  Paganism — Early  apologetic. 

Relation  of  apology  to  the  literary  character  of  the  age. 

Bulk  and  range  of  the  apologetic  literature. 

Comparison  of  ancient  with  modern  apology — difficult  task  of 
the  former. 

The  literary  attack  on  Christianity  :  Celsus  as  type. 

Character  of  the  True  Word  of  Celsus. 

Causes  of  its  failure  to  arrest  the  progress  of  Christianity. 
Three-fold  task  of  the  Christian  apology  as  defensive,  aggressive, 
and  positive. 

(1)  Its  defensive  task  in  relation  to  Jews  and  Gentiles. 

Its  refutation  of  calumnies  and  plea  for  toleration. 

(2)  Its  aggressive  task. 

Common  ground  with  Jews  in  acknowledgment  of  Old 
Testament  revelation. 

Polemical  attitude  towards  pagan  idolatry. 

Vindication,  in  opposition  thereto,  of  truths  of  natural 
religion. 

(3)  Its  positive  task — Evidences  of  revelation.  Prophecy, 

miracles,  spread  of  Gospel,  spiritual  fruits. 

The  apologists  and  natural  theology — charges  of  misappre¬ 
hending  Christianity  (Harnack). 

(1)  Their  Works  are  apologies ,  not  doctrinal  treatises. 

(2)  Their  task  called  on  them  to  give  prominence  to  the 

truths  of  natural  religion  (Being,  Unity,  Spirituality 
of  God  ;  Providence  ;  Judgment,  etc.). 

(3)  The  doctrines  in  question  real  parts  of  the  Christian 

system,  and  treated  as  such. 


xii  THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 

PAGE 

(4)  Unfair  to  say  that  Justin  ignores  specific  Christian 
doctrines. 

Limitations  of  apologists,  but  value  of  their  work. 

II.  The  Conflict  of  the  Church  with  Gnosticism. 

Harnack’s  view  of  the  Gnostics  as  “  Christian  theologians  ” 

— serious  character  of  the  struggle. 

Religious  syncretism  of  the  second  century  ;  rise  of  Gnosticism. 
Gnosticism  not  mere  perversity  ;  deeper  questions  for  which 
solution  sought. 

Incipient,  semi  -  developed,  and  fully  -  developed  systems 
(Basilides,  Valentinus,  Marcion). 

Typical  features  of  Gnosticism. 

Gravity  of  the  crisis  as  mirrored  in  literature  of  the  period. 
Disappearance  of  Gnosticism  after  second  century. 

Aim  of  the  Fathers  in  this  conflict  is  “conservation” — Not 
justly  charged  with  “  Hellenising.” 

Gains  to  the  Church  in  its  means  of  defence  : 

(1)  In  formation  of  a  New  Testament  canon. 

(2)  Shaping  of  an  authoritative  creed  (“  Rule  of  Faith  ”). 

(3)  Idea  of  Apostolic  episcopate  as  guardian  of  tradition. 

Doctrinal  gains — Vindication  of  fundamental  religious  and 

Christian  ideas. 

Beginnings  of  constructive  theological  work, 
lrenseus  as  type  of  early  theologian. 


LECTURE  III 

The  Doctrine  of  God;  Trinity  and  Deity  of  Son 
and  Spirit — Monarchian,  Arian,  and  Mace¬ 
donian  Controversies  (Third  and  Fourth 
Centuries)  ....  7 

First  task  of  the  Church  in  theology  the  determination  of  the  con¬ 
cept  of  God  as  Triune,  and  vindication  of  the  Deity  of 
Son  and  Spirit. 

I.  Here  also  the  Fathers  aimed  at  “conservation,”  not  invention. 
Early  developments ;  the  Ebionites — do  not  represent  pro¬ 
gressive  Christianity. 

High  Christ ology  of  the  Apostolic  Fathers. 


CONTENTS 


Xlll 

PAGE 


Harnack’s  views  on  Hermas. 

Theology  of  the  Apologists  ;  their  Logos-doctrine. 

Defects  of  their  doctrine  as  compared  with  the  Nicene. 

The  Trinity  in  Irenseus  and  Tertullian. 

The  Alexandrian  theology — its  general  character  and  relation 
to  heathen  culture. 

Advance  in  Clement  and  Origen — “the  eternal  generation.” 
Origen’s  subordinationism  :  Platonic  influence. 

II.  The  Third  Century  Monarchian  Controversies. 

Two  interests  at  work — the  theological  and  the  Christological. 
The  Unity  of  God  seemed  imperilled  by  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity. 

The  true  divinity  of  Christ  seemed  compromised  by  the  sub¬ 
ordination  of  Him  to  the  Father  as  a  “second  god.” 

“  Monarchianism  ”  a  reaction  against  both. 

Its  two  forms  :  Ebionitic  or  Unitarian ,  and  Modalistic. 

The  Ebionitic  or  Unitarian  Monarchians — 

(1)  The  Alogi  in  Asia  Minor. 

(2)  The  Theodotians  and  Artemonites  in  Rome. 

The  Modalistic  Monarchians — 

(1)  The  Patripassians — the  Father  Himself  incarnate  in 

Christ. 

Praxeas  ;  Noetus  ;  Beryllus  of  Bostra. 

(2)  The  Sabellians — one  God  (Monas)  in  three  modes  or 

manifestations. 

Inadmissibility  of  the  Sabellian  view. 

Culmination  of  the  movement  in  Paul  of  Samosata. 

His  dynamical  Monarchianism  (Unitarian  type)  — a  divine 
Power  in  Christ,  through  which  Pie  became  God  by 
development. 

Analogy  with  modern  theories. 


LECTURE  IV 

Same  Subject  Continued — Arian  and  Macedonian 

Controversies  (Fourth  Century)  .  .  103-13 1 

The  Monarchian  Controversies  in  the  Third  Century  a  prelude  to 
the  Arian  Controversy  in  the  Fourth. 

h 


XIV 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Altered  condition  of  the  Church  under  Constantine. 

New  theological  tendencies  —  Schools  of  Alexandria  and 
Antioch  ;  Lucian. 

I.  The  Arian  Controversy  till  the  Council  of  Nicsea. 

Outbreak  of  the  dispute  ;  Arius  and  Alexander. 

Importance  of  the  controversy. 

Relation  to  previous  development  —  Logical  issue  of  sub- 
ordinationism. 

Parties  to  the  dispute — 

(1)  The  Athanasians — their  unambiguous  ground. 

(2)  The  Arians — doctrine  of  Arius. 

(3)  The  Semi -Arians:  two  classes — the  time-serving 

Eusebians,  and  the  sincere  Semi-Arians. 

Difficulty  of  the  last-named  with  the  word  ( homoousion )  rather 
than  the  thing. 

Logical  bearings  and  issues  of  the  Arian  doctrine. 

II.  The  Nicene  Council  and  after. 

Meeting  of  the  first  ecumenical  Council  at  Nicsea  325  a.d. 
Proceedings  and  adoption  of  the  homoousion  formula. 
Constantine’s  attitude  to  this  decision. 

The  original  Nicene  Symbol ;  subsequent  changes. 

Post  Nicene  controversies — Persecutions  of  Athanasius  :  his 
character. 

Constantius  and  the  chief  Councils. 

The  second  ecumenical  Council  at  Constantinople,  381  A.D. 
The  so-called  creed  of  this  Council ;  its  true  origin. 

Alleged  “metaphysical  ”  character  of  the  Nicene  creed. 

III.  The  Macedonian  controversy  on  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Earlier  development  of  doctrine  on  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Views  of  Apostolic  Fathers  ;  Apologists  ;  Origen. 

Speculations  in  fourth  century  adverse  to  deity  of  the  Spirit. 
Impulse  given  to  this  movement  by  Macedonius. 

Finding  of  the  Constantinople  Council  on  the  Spirit. 

Decay  of  the  heresy. 

Supplementary — the  filioque  dispute  between  East  and  West. 


CONTENTS 


XV 


LECTURE  V 

,  PAGE 

The  Doctrine  of  Man  and  Sin  ;  Grace  and  Pre¬ 
destination — Augustinian  and  Pelagian  Con¬ 
troversy  (Fifth  Century)  .  .  .  133-170 

Transition  to  problems  of  man  and  freedom  in  relation  to 
divine  grace. 

Place  and  importance  of  the  Augustinian  theology — Contrast  of 
Greek  and  Latin  theology. 

I.  Augustine’s  experience  the  key  to  his  theology. 

Iiis  personal  history  as  mirrored  in  the  Confessions. 

Is  his  theology  influenced  by  Manichseism  ? 

Two  sides  of  his  theology. 

(1)  Its  chttrchly  or  Old  Catholic  side. 

Catholicism  here  rightly  claims  Augustine. 

(2)  Its  doctrinal  side. 

Here  Protestantism  shows  more  affinity. 

Two  differences  from  Protestantism — results  of  sacramentarian 
principle. 

(1)  Wide  sense  given  to  “justification.” 

(2)  Test  of  predestination  not  regeneration ,  but  persever¬ 

ance. 

Inconsistencies  of  his  scheme. 

II.  Positive  exhibition  of  Augustine’s  theology. 

( 1 )  Doctrine  of  God  and  of  the  soul’s  relation  to  Him. 

(2)  Doctrine  of  sin — its  nature  as  privation  and  results. 

Hereditary  sin  and  the  organic  constitution  of  the  race. 

(3)  Doctrine  of  grace — grace  and  freedom. 

(4)  Doctrine  of  predestination — Salvation  of  the  individual 

viewed  sub  specie  ceternitatis. 

Religious  interest  of  this  doctrine. 

III.  The  Pelagian  opposition. 

Place  of  the  Pelagian  controversy  in  history  of  doctrine. 

Rise  of  the  Pelagian  opposition — the  Pelagian  doctrine  in  its 
antithesis  to  the  Augustinian. 

( 1 )  Contrast  on  the  nature  of  God  and  man. 

(2)  Contrast  on  the  nature  of  the  will  and  freedom. 

( 3 )  Contrast  on  the  nature  of  virtue  and  vice. 

Are  there  evil  hereditary  dispositions  ? 


XVI 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


PAGE 


(4)  Contrast  on  the  fall  of  man  and  its  effects  on  human 

nature 

(5)  Contrast  on  the  idea  and  operations  of  grace. 

General  sketch  of  the  Pelagian  scheme. 

IV.  Stages  of  the  Pelagian  controversy — 

At  Carthage,  Palestine,  Rome. 

Bishop  Zozimus  and  Papal  Infallibility. 

Mediating  movement — Semi-Pelagianism. 

Internal  weakness  of  this  view. 

After  history  of  controversy. 

V.  Augustinian  doctrine  of  Predestination  considered.  Objections — 

(1)  An  arbitrary  act  of  God. 

Augustine  knows  nothing  of  arbitrary  acts  of  God. 

The  divine  will  holy,  just,  and  good,  though  inscrutable. 

(2)  Negates  free-will  and  responsibility. 

Its  end  really  the  restoration  of  freedom. 

No  tenable  view  of  freedom  relieves  us  of  difficulty  on 
this  subject. 

Freedom  and  foreknowledge. 

(3)  Conflicts  with  divine  love  and  Fatherhood. 

Augustine’s  answer — as  to  justice. 

Predestination  does  not  add  a  single  anomaly  to  those 
already  existing. 

Real  defect  in  Augustine’s  doctrine — Predestination  viewed  too 
exclusively  in  relation  to  individual  salvation. 

Need  of  connecting  it  with  an  organic  view  of  the  divine  purpose. 
Law  of  election  in  history — blessing  of  one  for  good  of  others. 
Election  does  not  simply  select ,  but  presides  at  the  making  of 
its  objects. 

Subject  to  be  resumed  under  Calvinism. 


LECTURE  VI 

The  Doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ  —  The 
Christological  Controversies  :  Apollinarian, 
Nestorian,  Eutychian,  Monophysite,  Mono- 
thelite  (Fifth  to  Seventh  Centuries)  .  17 


-206 


Relation  of  Christology  to  theology  and  soteriology. 

Unlovely  character  of  controversies,  yet  doctrinally  inevitable. 


CONTENTS 


xvn 


Nature  of  the  Christological  problem — Connection  with  past 
developments. 

Radical  weakness  of  old  Christology  in  dualistic  opposition  of 
God  and  man. 

Aim  of  the  early  Church  decisions — not  exhaustive  definition, 
but  warding  off  of  errors. 

Compatibility  of  recognition  of  mystery  of  the  incarnation  with 
perception  that  certain  theories  imperil  vital  interests  of 
faith. 

Historical  course  of  the  controversies  : — 

I.  Apollinarian  heresy — denial  of  a  rational  soul  to  Christ. 
Element  of  truth  in  Apollinarius’s  defence — the  soul  of  man 

grounded  in  the  Logos. 

Condemned  at  Constantinople,  381  A.D. 

II.  The  Nestoria?i  error — dissolving  the  unity  of  the  Person  of 

Christ. 

Relation  to  Antiochian  theology — the  system  of  Theodore  of 
Mopsuestia. 

Theodore  on  “indwelling,”  and  ethical  union  of  divine  and 
human  in  Christ. 

Origin  of  Nestorian  controversy — opposition  of  Nestorius  to 
theotokos  (“  Mother  of  God  ”). 

Union  of  natures  in  Christ — a  moral  fellowship  of  two  persons. 
Character  of  Cyril  of  Alexandria — his  polemic  against  Nestorius. 
Nestorianism  condemned  at  third  ecumenical  Council  at 
Ephesus,  431  A.D. 

After  controversy  and  compromises. 

III.  The  Eutychian  error — confusion  of  the  natures. 

The  Alexandrian  assertion  of  “  one  nature  ”  in  Christ — wide 
spread  of  this  view. 

Outbreak  of  controversy  at  Constantinople  under  Eutyches. 
Eutyches  condemned  at  local  Council  and  by  Leo  of  Rome. 
Activity  of  Dioscurus  of  Alexandria — the  “  Synod  of  Robbers  ” 
at  Ephesus,  449  a.d. 

The  fourth  ecumenical  Council  at  Chalcedon,  451  a.d. — 
Dioscurus  condemned. 

New  Creed  drawn  up  on  basis  of  Leo’s  “Tome.” 

Merits  and  defects  of  Chalcedonian  statement. 

Element  of  truth  in  Monophysitism. 

IV.  The  Monophysite  controversy  —  continuation  of  the  “one- 

nature”  dispute. 

Repudiation  of  the  Chalcedonian  decisions. 


XV111 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Confusions  of  the  controversy  :  the  Monophysite  sects. 

Imperial  attempts  to  enforce  unity  : — 

(1)  The  Henoiicon  of  Zeno,  482  A. D. 

(2)  The  'Three  Chapters  of  Justinian,  544  A.  D. 

Failure  of  these  attempts. 

New  mystical  and  Aristotelian  influences. 

The  fifth  ecumenical  Council  at  Constantinople,  553  A.D., 
endorsesthe  “  Three  Chapters,”  while  retaining  the  creed 
of  Chalcedon. 

Partial  victory  for  the  Monophysites,  but  ineffectual  to  restore 
unity. 

V7.  The  Monothelite  controversy — “one  will”  in  Christ. 

Its  origin  in  attempt  of  Emperor  Heraclius  to  win  back 
Monophysites. 

Rationale  of  the  controversy. 

First  form — two  “  wills,”  but  one  “  energy  ”  in  Christ,  630  A.D. 

Second  form — “one  will”  in  Christ. 

This  doctrine  endorsed  by  Pope  Honorius — bearing  on  In¬ 
fallibility. 

The  Emperor’s  Ecthesis,  638  A.D. 

The  Type  of  Constans  II.  forbidding  controversy,  648  A.D. 

Barbarous  tyranny  of  Emperor. 

Later  the  sixth  ecumenical  Council  at  Constantinople,  680  A.D., 
condemns  Monothelitism  and  anathematises  Pope 
Honorius. 

Creed  of  this  Council. 

General  view  of  discussion  : — 

Ambiguity  of  “  will.” 

Fault  arising  from  too  abstract  opposition  of  the  human  and 
divine. 

Analogy  from  higher  and  lower  will  in  every  man. 

This  compatible  with  recognition  of  two  spheres  or  modes  of 
existence  of  the  one  divine  Son. 

T  he  Gospels  imply  inburstings  of  the  higher  life  into  the 
lower  (transfiguration,  etc.). 


CONTENTS 


XIX 


LECTURE  VII 

PAGE 

The  Doctrine  of  Atonement — Anselm  and  Abelard 
to  Reformation  (Eleventh  to  Sixteenth 
Centuries)  ....  207-239 

Relation  to  previous  developments. 

Epoch-making  importance  of  Anselm. 

I.  Earlier  development  of  the  doctrine  of  Atonement. 

The  Church  always  knew  itself  redeemed  by  Christ,  and  attri¬ 
buted  a  propitiatory  efficacy  to  His  death. 

Views  of  the  Apostolic  Fathers. 

Beginnings  of  theology  of  atonement  in  the  Old  Catholic 
Fathers. 

The  “  recapitulation”  doctrine  of  Irenteus. 

Many-sidedness  of  Origen — germ  of  “ransom  to  Satan” 
theory. 

The  Nicene  period — The  Incarnation  of  the  Word  of  Athanasius. 

Remarkable  development  of  idea  of  atonement  as  en¬ 
durance  of  penalty  of  sin. 

Repudiation  of  “ransom  to  Satan”  view  by  Gregory  of 
Nazianzus. 

Juristic  development  in  Western  theology  from  Tertullian. 

Emphasis  on  idea  that  atonement  not  the  cause  but  the 
effect  of  love  of  God. 

Witness  to  belief  in  propitiatory  aspect  of  Christ’s  death  in  the 
doctrine  of  the  Mass. 

II.  First  systematic  attempt  at  theology  of  the  atonement  in 

Anselm’s  Czir  Dens  Homo. 

Question  mooted  in  his  day  of  the  necessity  of  the  sufferings  of 
the  Son  of  God  for  forgiveness  of  sins. 

The  atonement  no  mere  preferential  scheme  of  the  divine 
wisdom  :  must  have  its  ground  in  deep  principles  of  the 
divine  character  and  government. 

Analysis  of  Anselm’s  positions  :  — 

Idea  of  sin  as  that  which  robs  God  of  His  honour. 

Necessity  of  punishment  of  sin. 

Impossibility  of  man  rendering  satisfaction. 

The  Redeemer  must  be  both  God  and  man. 


XX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Nature  of  the  satisfaction — not  in  mere  obedience,  for  that 
already  due  from  Christ. 

Not  in  endurance  of  penalty. 

But  in  voluntary  surrender  of  Himself  to  suffering  and 
death  for  His  Father’s  honour. 

Merit  of  this  infinite  sacrifice  counterbalances  all  the 
demerit  of  human  sin. 

Strength  and  weakness  of  the  theory. 

Does  not  bring  atonement  into  relation  with  punitive  will 
of  God. 

Moves  in  forms  of  Catholic  doctrine  of  merits. 

Too  objective — lack  of  nexus  of  faith. 

Counter  theory  to  Anselm’s  in  Abelard. 

Efficacy  of  Christ’s  death  lies  in  its  moral  power — satisfac¬ 
tion  rejected. 

Enkindles  love  in  us  and  reconciles  us  to  God.  ' 

Bernard  opposes  Abelard  :  his  doctrine — “The  Head  satisfied 
for  the  members.” 

Exaltation  of  the  will  of  God  in  Aquinas. 

God  might  have  dispensed  with  satisfaction — transition 
to  acceptilation  view  of  Duns  Scotus. 

Aquinas  recognises  penal  endurance  in  Christ’s  sufferings  (so 
the  Lombard,  Innocent  III.,  etc.). 

III.  The  Reformation  interest  in  Justification  reacted  on  doctrine  of 
Atonement. 

Justification  not  merely  forgiveness,  but  forgiveness  on  a 
righteous  basis. 

The  atonement  as  foundation  of  the  sinner’s  peace. 

Atonement  not  grounded  in  God’s  will ,  but  in  His  nature. 

Lifted  from  the  sphere  of  private  rights  (Anselm)  and 
placed  on  ground  of  public  law. 

Necessity  of  satisfaction  to  the  law  in  its  penal  as  well  as 
its  preceptive  aspect. 

Breadth  of  Reformation  idea  in  Luther  and  other  Re¬ 
formers. 

Atonement  grounded  in  God’s  love. 

Yet  a  “  forensic  ”  aspect  is  not  to  be  denied. 


CONTENTS 


XXI 


LECTURE  VIII 

PAGE 

The  Doctrine  of  the  Application  of  Redemption  ; 
Justification  by  Faith  ;  Regeneration,  etc. — 
Protestantism  and  Roman  Catholicism  (Six¬ 
teenth  Century)  .  .  .  .241-275 

The  Sixteenth  Century  the  “epoch”  of  the  doctrine  of  Justifica¬ 
tion. 

Harmony  of  the  Reformers  on  this  doctrine — its  importance. 

In  what  sense  a  revolt  against  the  past ;  the  Reformation  claim  to 
continuity  with  the  past. 

I.  Earlier  development  in  its  sides  both  of  error  and  of  truth. 

Hurtful  effects  of  Sacr ament ari an  principle  on  this  doctrine  in 
Early  Church  : — 

Early  connection  of  regeneration  and  forgiveness  with 
baptism — “  Baptismal  Regeneration.” 

Extension  of  justification  to  include  the  whole  change 
effected  in  baptism — the  making  of  the  sinner  righteous 
through  infusion  of  a  new  nature. 

Restriction  of  benefit  to  sins  committed  before  baptism  : 
/<?j/-baptismal  sins  to  be  expiated  by  good  works  and 
penance. 

Building  up  on  this  of  later  elaborate  system  of  Penance, 
with  its  results  in  Romish  theology  and  practice. 

Support  of  this  system  in  doctrine  of  “  Merits.” 

Not  enough  to  prove  continuity  to  show  that  there  was  always 
a  protesting  minority. 

The  possibility  admitted  of  false  and  perverted  developments 
from  which  return  has  to  be  made  to  primitive  source. 

But  other  facts  to  be  taken  into  account : — 

It  was  never  denied  that  the  ultimate  ground  of  forgiveness 
and  grace  was  the  Cross  and  propitiatory  work  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

The  initial  acceptance  of  the  sinner  into  favour  was 
admitted  to  be  purely  of  grace. 

The  deepest  element  in  the  piety  of  the  Church  always 
traced  everything,  even  “  merits,”  to  grace  as  their 


source. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


xxii 


The  essential  fact  here  is  what  Ritschl  calls  “  the  religious 
self-estimate  ”  of  godly  men  in  the  Church. 

This  “self-estimate”  has  always  one  mark — the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  having  received  everything  from  grace,  and  of 
continued  dependence  on  grace. 

Illustrations  from  Bernard,  etc. 

The  Reformation  doctrine  in  continuity  with  the  Church-con¬ 
sciousness  in  this  vital  respect. 

The  development  of  the  doctrine  of  atonement  called  for  a 
readjustment  of  the  doctrine  of  justification. 

II.  The  Reformation  doctrine  a  response  to  practical  needs. 
Meaning  of  justification  by  faith. 

Inseparableness  of  justifying  faith  from  good  works  ;  but  this 
not  the  ground  of  acceptance. 

Harmony  of  Reformation  with  Pauline  doctrine. 

The  Tridentine  antithesis  to  the  Protestant  doctrine.  The  two 
contrasted  : — 

(1)  In  the  place  assigned  to  faith  in  justification. 

(2)  In  the  Romish  doctrine  of  preparation  for  justifica¬ 

tion. 

Merit  of  congruity  and  merit  of  condignity. 

(3)  In  the  view  taken  of  justification  itself. 

(4)  In  the  Romish  view  of  good  works  as  completing  justi¬ 

fication  and  truly  meriting  eternal  life. 

(5)  In  the  treatment  of  post-baptismal  sin. 

The  Romish  doctrine  of  Penance,  its  working  system  of  justi¬ 
fication. 

Penance  as  the  “second  plank” — its  development  in  con¬ 
fession,  absolution,  satisfaction,  etc. 

Purgatory,  indulgences,  and  masses. 

The  whole  theory  a  practical  denial  of  the  grace  of  the  Gospel. 

III.  Abiding  elements  in  the  Reformation  doctrine. 
Post-Reformation  controversies  ;  advantages  of  the  Reformed 

Church  in  these  : — 

( 1 )  Constructive  genius  of  Calvin. 

(2)  Less  hampered  by  sacramentarian  compromise. 
Anabaptist  and  Mystical  opposition  ;  reversion  to  justification 

by  imparted  righteousness. 

The  doctrine  of  Osiander. 

The  Reformers’  vindication  of  their  \iew. 

The  Lutheran  controversies  ;  relations  of  believers  to  the  law, 
to  good  works,  etc. 


CONTENTS  xxiii 

PAGE 

The  question  of  the  ordo  salutis — Does  justification  or 
regeneration  precede  ? 

The  work  of  Spirit  in  production  of  faith  precedes  (justifica¬ 
tion  objectively  presented). 

Justification  determines  the  regenerate  life  in  full  sense  of 
the  word. 

The  Socinian  opposition  :  satisfaction  and  remission  include 
each  other. 

Grace  shown  not  in  dispensing  with  atonement,  but  in 
providing  it. 

Debt  analogies  imperfect — the  relation  of  Christ  and  be¬ 
lievers  involves  ethical  and  spiritual  elements. 


LECTURE  IX 

Post-Reformation  Theology  :  Lutheranism  and 
Calvinism — New  Influences  acting  on  Theo¬ 
logy  and  their  Results  in  Rationalism 
(Seventeenth  and  Eighteenth  Centuries)  277-308 

The  history  of  dogma  not  closed  at  Reformation— Influences  since 
acting  on  theology. 

I.  The  Reformation  Age  as  marked  by  productivity  in  creeds. 

Not  every  age  a  creed-making  age  ;  value  of  these  products. 

Earlier  creeds  partial ;  now  the  possibility  of  exhibiting  the 

entire  round  of  Christian  doctrine. 

Claim  of  Reformation  creeds  to  be  based  on  Scripture. 

The  Reformers  not  men  to  bow  to  simple  “  tradition.” 

The  creeds  to  be  tested  by  this  claim. 

II.  Task  laid  on  Post-l<eformaLion  Church  of  revising  and  adjust¬ 

ing  the  doctrinal  system  in  light  of  the  whole  develop¬ 
ment. 

New  importance  hence  given  to  theological  system — dog¬ 
matics. 

General  causes  in  the  age  compelling  re-testing  and  revision. 

The  Lutheran  development — In  distinction  from  Reformed  the 
Lutheran  Church — 

(1)  Fell  back  under  Melanchthon  on  less  rigorous  view  of 
predestination. 


XXIV 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


(2)  Held  to  corporeal  presence  of  Christ  in  the  Supper, 
and  doctrine  of  ubiquity  of  Christ’s  humanity  con¬ 
nected  therewith. 

The  Lutheran  Christology  largely  conditioned  by  doctrine 
of  Supper. 

Controversies  of  Brenz  and  Chemnitz,  etc. 

Corporeal  presence  comes  in  the  end  to  a  presence 
virtualiter. 

Century  of  undisturbed  Lutheran  orthodoxy — age  of  Lutheran 
Scholasticism. 

More  vital  tendencies  in  hymnology,  etc. 

Reaction  against  arid  dogmatism  in  Pietism. 

Influence  of  Spener  and  Fran  eke. 

Subjectivity  and  decadence  of  Pietistic  movement. 

Its  failure  to  satisfy  intellect. 

The  Calvinistic  development. 

Calvin’s  genius  and  influence — general  nature  of  his  system. 

Calvinistic  doctrine  of  predestination. 

— —  God  with  Calvin  is  not  exlex. 

.-—-Defect  of  his  conception — Love  is  subordinated  to  sove¬ 
reignty,  instead  of  sovereignty  to  love. 

-"■Need  of  supplement  through  the  organic  conception  of  the 
divine  purpose  in  history  referred  to  under  Augustine. 

The  Arminian  protest  against  Calvinism  in  Holland. 

Two  schools  of  Calvinists — •sw/ralapsarians  (Beza,  Gomar) 
and  m/ralapsarians. 

Arminius  affirms  conditionality  of  predestination  and 
universality  of  grace. 

The  “Remonstrants”  under  Episcopius — points  of  the 
Remonstrance. 

Synod  of  Dort  (1618-19)  condemns  Arminianism,  and  re¬ 
affirms  Calvinistic  positions  (in  milder  form). 

Christ  died  sufficients-  for  all,  efficienter  for  the  elect 
only. 

Real  antinomies  of  Calvinistic  system  unresolved — mediating 
attempt  in  “  Amyraldism.” 

Flattening  down  of  doctrine  in  later  Arminianism — Curcellasus, 
Limborch. 

The  “governmental”  theory  of  atonement  of  Grotius. 

Christ  a  penal  example  to  deter  from  sin — a  “  rectoral 
expedient.” 

It  lacks  a  ground  in  essential  justice. 


CONTENTS 


XXV 

PAGE 


Age  of  Scholasticism  in  Reformed  Church,  especially  in 
Holland. 

Voetius  and  Coccejus. 

Covenant — Theology  of  the  Coccejan  school — Witsius. 

Insufficient  bulwark  against  rationalism. 

III.  The  new  intellectual  movement  ending  in  rationalism. 

Impulse  to  freedom  of  thought  given  by  revival  of  learning  and 
the  Reformation. 

Descartes  and  the  principle  of  doubt. 

The  certainty  of  reason  ( cogito  ergo  stem),  and  resultant 
criterion  of  truth. 

Rational  theology  (Cudworth,  Leibnitz,  Wolff)  as  a 
defence  against  unbelief. 

New  claim  of  the  sufficiency  of  “  natural  religion.” 

Eighteenth  century  Deism  in  England;  effects  on  France 
and  Germany. 

The  period  of  “illumination”  in  Germany. 

Counter  influences — Wesleyanism  and  evangelical  dissent  in 
Britain. 

Humanism  (Lessing,  Herder),  piety,  and  devout  learning 
(Bengel)  in  Germany. 

Reaction  in  end  of  century. 


LECTURE  X 

Modern  Restatement  of  the  Problems  of  Theo¬ 
logy —  The  Doctrine  of  the  Last  Things 
(Nineteenth  Century)  .  .  309-354 

Theological  awakening  in  the  nineteenth  century,  and  its  effects  on 
doctrine. 

I.  Revolutionary  movements  in  the  commencement  of  the  century. 
Ascendency  of  the  philosophic  and  scientific  spirit. 

(1)  The  philosophical  movement  inaugurated  by  Kant  —  its 

subsequent  course  (Fichte,  Schelling,  Hegel,  etc.). 

(2)  Theological  rejuvenation  under  Schleiermacher  —  the 

theology  of  feeling. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


xxv  i 

Parties  in  Germany  since  Schleiermacher — “mediating,” 
“confessional,”  “liberal.” 

The  later  Ritschlian  School. 

(3)  Growth  of  the  scientific  spirit — Ghanges  in  human  thought, 
and  effects  in  theology. 

Outcome  in  demand  for  a  restatement  of  the  problems  of 
theology,  and  recasting  of  the  whole  system. 

The  result  not  to  be  feared. 

II.  Review  of  particular  departments. 

(1)  Call  for  a  new  apologetic. 

Change  from  older  point  of  view — more  comprehensive 
character. 

Place  of  Christianity  in  general  system  of  the  world. 

Faith  and  reason  (“religious”  and  “theoretic”)  cannot 
be  sundered. 

Apologetic  cannot  be  separated  from  positive  exhibition  of 
the  Christian  system. 

(2)  The  doctrine  of  God.  Two  main  tendencies  in  thought  of 

century  : — 

1.  Deistic  tendencies  corrected  by  more  living  grasp  of  the 

divine  immanence. 

Bearings  on  ideas  of  revelation,  miracles,  etc. 

2.  More  central  place  given  to  the  divine  love. 

Bearing  on  idea  of  the  divine  purpose — the  “Kingdom 
of  God.” 

Modern  treatment  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God — truth  and 
error  in  representations. 

The  divine  Fatherhood  in  relation  to  (1)  Christ;  (2) 
members  of  His  Kingdom ;  (3)  the  world  in 

general. 

(3)  The  doctrine  of  man  and  sin.  These  also  profoundly 

influenced. 

1.  The  higher  philosophy  aids  us  in  apprehending  the  God- 

related  side  of  human  nature. 

2.  The  evolution  theory,  in  its  naturalistic  form,  tends  to 

lower  man  in  obliterating  the  marks  of  his  distinctive 
dignity. 

Bearings  of  theories  of  the  origin  of  man  on  the 
doctrines  of  sin  and  redemption 
Limitations  of  evolution  theory,  and  compatibility  with 
higher  spiritual  origin  of  man. 

False  antithesis  of  “evolution”  and  “creation.” 


CONTENTS 


XXVll 


(4)  The  doctrine  of  Christ's  Person.  Chief  feature — attempt 

to  find  a  synthesis  of  the  divine  and  human  which  will 
yield  more  living  unity. 

1.  From  side  of  divine ,  merits  and  defects  of  theories  of 

speculative  school  (Hegel,  etc.),  of  Schleiermacher,  of 
Ritschl,  etc. 

Generally,  true  “  Godhead”  is  not  reached. 

2.  From  human  side,  great  fulness  of  treatment  of  “  the 

historical  Christ.” 

Gains  from  this,  and  limitations  of  method. 

Its  outcome  to  compel  acknowledgment  in  Christ  of  that 
which  transcends  humanity. 

Consequences  of  movement — 

1.  Theology  tends  to  become  Christo-centric. 

2.  Re-discussion  of  the  problem  of  Kenosis. 

Bearing  of  this  question  on  limitations  of  Christ’s 
human  knowledge. 

Position  of  faith  on  this  subject. 

(5)  The  doctrine  of  Atonement. 

Service  of  Schleiermacher  in  recalling  thought  to  Chris¬ 
tianity  as  the  religion  of  redemption. 

Modern  reaction  against  theories  of  vicarious  atonement — 
causes  of  this. 

Desire  for  vital  and  ethical  interpretation  of  the  atonement 
(Maurice,  Erskine,  M‘Leod  Campbell,  Bushnell). 
Effect  of  evolution  doctrine  on  theories. 

Truth  to  be  acknowledged  in  all  these  theories — the  atone¬ 
ment,  whatever  else ,  must  be  an  ethical  work. 

The  general  facts  of  vicarious  (substitutionary)  suffering  in 
life  not  denied. 

The  question  relates  to  the  expiatory  character  of  such 
suffering — whether  (1)  expiation  is  needed;  (2)  whether 
one  can  atone  for  sins  of  others. 

Two  considerations  lead  to  an  answer  in  the  affirmative  : — 

1.  Scripture  indubitably  teaches  this  doctrine. 

2.  It  alone  accords  with  demands  of  moral  law,  and 

meets  the  needs  of  conscience. 

The  Fatherhood  of  God  does  not  sublate  his  fundamental 
relation  to  His  world  as  Moral  Lawgiver  and  Judge. 

In  the  very  forgiving  of  sin  law  must  be  upheld. 

Even  so,  the  atonement  of  Christ  must  be  ethically  con¬ 
ceived. 


XXV1U 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


PAGE 


Not  bare,  external  substitution,  but  spiritual  identification 
with  us  in  our  whole  lot  as  sinners,  and  spiritual  re¬ 
presentation  of  us  before  God  in  view  of  all  the 
demands  of  His  holiness. 

III.  The  problem  that  bears  heavily  on  the  modern  age  is  the 
Esch  atological. 

Doctrine  of  the  Last  Things  in  the  Early  Church — Chiliasm, 
etc. 

Restitution  theories  of  Origen  and  Theodore. 

Mythological  Eschatology  of  the  Middle  Ages  (Heaven, 
Hell,  Purgatory). 

Reformation  and  modern  orthodox  views. 

Deeper  sense  of  the  complexity  of  the  problem. 

Rival  theories  (Universalism,  Annihilation,  Second  Proba¬ 
tion). 

For  none  can  clear  Scripture  support  be  adduced. 

Impression  of  finality  in  Scripture  views  of  destiny. 

Factors  in  the  problem  our  knowledge  does  not  grasp. 

Conclusion. — Hopeful  outlook  for  theology. 

The  task  of  the  Church  in  Twentieth  Century  will  be  mainly 


to  translate  Christ’s  mind  into  the  practical  life  of  the 
age. 


Appendix 


355-36o 


Index 


361-365 


Idea  of  Course — Relation  of  Dogma  to  Its  History — 
Parallelism  of  Logical  and  Historical 
Development 


B 


‘  ‘  Theology  is  peculiarly  the  science  of  revealed  religion.  Theologians  exist 
only  among  people  who  believe  in  a  revelation,  whether  exceptional  and 
national,  or  common  and  universal. .  Paganism  and  natural  religion  produce 
philosophers  only,  not  theologians.” — Reuss.  ' 

'  ‘  When  once  we  depart  from  that  method  of  treating  Church  history,  which 
proceeds  upon  the  theory  that  in  the  changes  and  in  the  advances  of  theological 
science  the  logically  necessary  development  of  thought  must  be  traced,  we  have 
no  longer  any  other  point  of  view  left  to  us  than  that  which  makes  the  religious 
and  scientific  experiences  of  the  theological  subject  to  form  the  sufficient  basis 
for  his  particular  theological  views.  For  second  or  third  class  men  this 
standard  may  suffice.” — Ritschl. 

“The  teleology  of  Revelation  supplements  that  of  Nature,  and  so,  to  the 
spiritually-minded  man,  they  logically  and  mutually  corroborate  each  other.” 
— J.  G.  Romanes. 


LECTURE  I 


Idea  of  Course — Relation  of  Dogma  to  its  History — Parallelism 
of  Logical  and  Historical  Development. 

PERMIT  me,  in  introducing  this  course,  to  express  the 
pleasure  I  feel  in  being  permitted,  as  a  voice  from 
across  the  Atlantic,  to  speak  to  this  audience  on  some 
of  the  highest  themes  that  can  engage  human  thought. 
Increasingly  is  it  borne  in  upon  us  that  in  the  great 
brotherhood  of  nations,  the  bonds  of  which  we  rejoice 
to  see  drawn  closer  every  day,  the  supremely  unifying 
influence  is  the  faith  of  men  in  Jesus  Christ.  Sundered 
by  geographical  situation,  with  different  histories  and 
vocations,  held  apart  by  the  engrossing  and  often 
rival  interests  proper  to  the  life  of  independent  peoples, 
we  are  again  knit  together  by  this  faith  we  cherish  in 
the  One  Living  Lord,  by  our  share  in  the  world-wide 
fellowship  of  His  Church,  and  by  our  labours  in 
common  for  the  ends  of  His  Kingdom.  It  is  a  saying 
of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  early  Christian 
writings — the  Epistle  to  Diognetus — that  “  what  the 
soul  is  in  the  body,  that  Christians  are  in  the  world.”  1 
That  soul  throbs  in  Scotland  ;  it  throbs  in  America  ; 
and  the  heart  that  feeds  its  pulses  is  the  same  in  both 
lands — the  Christ  that  liveth,  and  was  dead,  and 
behold,  is  alive  for  evermore.2  If  I  seek  to  be  a 


1  Ch.  vi. 


2  Rev.  i.  1 8. 


4 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


helper  of  your  faith  and  knowledge  in  regard  to  that 
great  heritage  of  truth  which  has  come  down  to  us 
from  the  past,  which  has  received  its  existing  shape 
through  long  conflict  with  opposing  forces,  and  is 
embodied  as  the  expression  of  our  faith  in  the  historical 
creeds  on  which  our  Churches  rest,  I  am  confident  I 
can  rely  on  your  sympathy,  and  on  your  desire  to  gain 
as  clear  an  insight  as  possible  into  this  important 
department  of  Christian  study. 

For,  expressed  in  brief,  this  is  the  subject  on  which 
I  am  to  have  the  honour  of  addressing  you — How 
dogma  has  shaped  itself  in  history,  what  law  has  guided 
its  development,  and  what  abiding  value  belongs  to  its 
products.  I  do  not  propose  to  discuss  the  history  of 
dogma  for  its  own  sake,  or  as  a  matter  of  mere 
antiquarian  interest.  I  am  to  ask  whether  there  is  a 
recognisable  law  in  the  progress  of  dogma,  and,  if 
there  is,  what  help  it  affords  us  in  determining  our 
attitude  to  theological  system  now,  and  in  guiding  our 
steps  for  the  future.  This  is  a  question,  surely,  as 
practical  as  it  is  pressing. 

But  can  we  rightly  speak  of  a  system  of  dogmatic 
truth  ?  Systems,  of  course,  there  are — venerable,  the 
products  of  age-long  development,  but  are  they  truth  ? 
As  you  are  well  aware,  dogmatics— theological  system 
— is  in  these  days  in  somewhat  evil  case.  It  is  like  a 
ship  among  the  breakers,  caught  by  adverse  currents, 
battered  and  washed  by  heavy  seas  on  every  side. 
Will  it  survive  the  strain  ?  Or  will  its  timbers  yield, 
its  masts  go  by  the  board,  its  time-honoured  structure 
collapse  in  melancholy  ruin  ?  This  is  what  many  hope  ; 
what  others  fear  ;  and  you,  who  are  to  be  the  teachers 
of  the  future,  no  doubt  feel  deeply  the  gravity  of  the 
crisis.  Let  us,  for  encouragement,  glance  as  impartially 


OBJECTIONS  TO  DOGMA 


5 


as  we  can  at  the  situation,  and  observe  the  quarters 
from  which  dangers  principally  threaten. 

There  are  those,  then,  first,  who  would  exclude  dogma 
from  Christianity  altogether,  as  having  no  rightful  place 
there.  The  bond  of  union  in  Christ’s  religion,  they 
tell  us,  does  not  lie  in  intellectual  conceptions,  but  in 
participation  in  Christ’s  spirit.  To  make  Christianity 
depend  in  any  degree  on  “  doctrines  ”  or  “  dogmas  ”  is 
to  falsify  Christ’s  Gospel  in  its  essence.  Disputes 
about  doctrine  —  dividing,  distracting,  rending  the 
Church  —  have  not  tended  to  the  advancement  of 
Christianity,  but  have  been  the  prolific  cause  of  wrath, 
uncharitableness,  bitterness,  and  persecution.  On  this 
view,  the  development  of  dogma  we  are  to  study, 
instead  of  leading  to  any  stable  results  in  the  better 
apprehension  of  Christian  truth,  is  a  gigantic  monument 
of  human  folly,  a  monstrous  aberration  of  the  human 
spirit,  an  incubus  on  the  intellectual  and  moral 
progress  of  the  race.  This  type  of  objection  to  dogma 
will  probably  be  felt  to  put  itself  out  of  court  by  its 
manifest  exaggeration.  There  are  few  who  reflect 
earnestly  on  Christianity  but  will  concede  that  it 
contains  some  elements  of  doctrine,  however  nebulous 
these  may  be  supposed  to  be  ;  or  who  will  not  admit 
that  it  is  inevitable  that  the  human  spirit  should  seek 
some  clothing  of  conception  for  its  faith,  suited  to  its 
degree  of  knowledge  and  culture.1  The  question  of 
“  doctrine  ”  or  “  dogma  ”  resolves  itself  very  much  into 

1  Even  so  pronounced  an  evolutionist  in  dogma  as  Sabatier  admits 
that  “a  religion  without  doctrine,  a  piety  without  thought,  a  sentiment 
without  expression,  are  things  essentially  contradictory  ” ;  that 
“Christianity  in  its  pure  essence  implies  the  absoluteness  of  God,  that  is, 
Elis  perfect  spirituality  and  Elis  perfect  independence  ”  ;  and  that  the 
“variability  of  dogma  is  not  unlimited,”  but  is  “necessarily  confined 
within  limits  which,  while  not  easy  to  define  theoretically,  are  none  the 
less  precise  and  fixed  ”  ( Esquisse  Tune,  Philosophie  de  la  Religion ,  pp. 
405,  2i  1,  400;  E.T.,  pp.  336,  172,  334). 


6 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


how  rich  we  suppose  the  content  of  Christianity 
to  be. 

A  second  class,  accordingly,  do  not  go  so  far. 
They  grant  that  these  ultra -radicals  overshoot  the 
mark,  but  they  still  regard  the  actual  course  of  dogma 
as,  if  not  exactly  a  mistake — seeing  that  it  followed  a 
path  of  historical  necessity — yet  a  wide  departure  from 
the  original  idea  of  Christianity ;  to  that  extent  a 
“  pathological  ”  rather  than  a  normal  and  healthy 
process.1  Dogma,  as  we  know  it,  is,  it  is  contended, 
the  result  of  an  initial  misunderstanding  of  Christianity, 
which  has  vitiated  its  development  all  through  ;  an 
amalgamation  of  primitive  Christian  ideas  with  con¬ 
ceptions  borrowed  from  the  Greek  schools  ;  “  a  work 
of  the  Greek  spirit,”  as  Professor  Harnack  describes  it, 
“  on  the  soil  of  the  Gospel,”  the  general  outcome  of 
which  was  “  the  Hellenising  of  Christianity.”  2  In  this 
process  the  Gospel  contributes,  indeed,  its  part ;  but  the 
Greek  spirit,  working  with  its  own  intellectual  instru¬ 
ments,  and  importing  at  every  point  its  philosophical 
notions,  is  the  really  controlling  factor,  and  the 
Christian  element — a  drop,  shall  we  say,  in  a  vessel  of 
foreign  liquid — is  so  wrought  upon,  diluted,  changed, 
as  to  be  often  hardly  recognisable.  The  requirement 
of  those  who  take  this  view,  accordingly,  is,  that, 
breaking  with  the  past,  we  begin  de  novo ,  get  back 
behind  even  the  apostles,  and,  starting  from  the 
immediate  impression  of  the  historical  Christ,  set 
ourselves  to  construct  “  a  new  theology  ”  which  shall 
be  free  from  all  metaphysical  pre-suppositions.  The 

1  Harnack  objects  to  this  term,  but  it  seems  correctly  enough  to 
describe  the  idea. 

2  Hist,  of  Dogma,  i.  p.  21  (E.T.)  ;  cf.  pp.  46,  47.  Dr.  Allen,  in  his 
Continuity  of  Christian  Thought ,  has  a  similar  view  ;  only  he  regards 
this  union  with  the  Greek  spirit  as  a  great  good,  and  puts  Latin  theology 
under  the  ban.  This  last  is  far  from  Harnack’s  judgment. 


OBJECTIONS  TO  DOGMA 


7 


air  is  full  of  this  cry  for  “  a  new  theology  ”  ;  only  the 
new  theology  which  the  age  demands  seems  still  to  seek. 
As  an  American  representative  1  says  of  it,  it  is  “  not  a 
theology,  but  a  tendency.”  The  attempts — Continental 
and  transatlantic — which  have  been  made  to  give  it 
shape  show  chiefly  how  far  its  adherents  are  from 
agreement  among  themselves.  Not  a  few  of  the  new 
theologies  seem  ready  enough  to  blend  with  science 
and  philosophy,  if  only  the  watchwords  are  sufficiently 
modern  ;  the  best  are  by  no  means  criticism-proof.2 
The  fundamental  assumption  of  this  school,  that  the 
history  of  dogma  has  been  a  persistent  straying  into 
the  paths  of  error,  will  be  considered  in  the  course  of 
the  lectures. 

Lastly — to  allude  only  to  one  other  phase  of  the 
attack — assault  is  made,  not  only  on  the  completed 
edifice,  but  on  the  certainty  of  the  very  foundations  of 
dogma  ;  for  criticism,  in  the  view  of  many,  has  been 
brought  into  play  with  such  deadly  effect  on  the 
records  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  —  the  old 
conceptions  of  revelation  and  inspiration  have  received 
such  damage — the  progress  of  scientific  knowledge  has 
made  it  so  difficult  to  entertain  even  the  possibility  of 
supernatural  occurrences — that  a  structure  of  dogma 
built  on  so  insecure  a  basis  cannot  have,  it  is  thought, 
any  claim  to  rational  acceptance — not  to  say  to  rank 
among  the  sciences,  and  even  vaunt  itself  as  queen  of 
them  !  We  come  here,  I  grant,  to  a  real  dividing 
line  ;  for  if  it  be  really  the  case  that  the  foundations  of 


1  President  Bascom. 

2  As  a  type  of  transatlantic  opinion,  I  might  instance  an  article  on 
“Reconstruction  in  Theology’’  in  the  Bibliotheca  Sacra  for  Jan.  1897. 
Its  leading  ideas  are  evolution,  immanence  of  God,  Christ  the  acme  of 
development,  rejection  of  the  old  dogmas,  and  replacement  of  them  by 
evolutionary  conceptions  in  which,  for  the  most  part,  the  Christianity  of 
the  New  Testament  would  not  know  itself. 


8 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


historical  religion  are  subverted  ;  if  God,  in  truth,  has 
not  entered  by  word  and  deed  into  history,  and  given 
to  man  sure  and  reliable  knowledge  regarding  Himself, 
and  His  character  and  purpose  ;  if  the  Son  has  not 
truly  come  as  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  the  promise 
of  the  Spirit  to  guide  into  all  truth  has  not  actually 
been  fulfilled  ;  then,  beyond  doubt,  the  legitimacy,  and 
even  the  possibility  of  dogma — above  all,  the  legitimacy 
of  such  a  development  of  dogma  as  history  presents  to 
us — fall  to  the  ground.  But  with  this  also  falls  the 
entire  Christian  faith.1  My  appeal  at  present,  however, 
is  not  to  those  who  have  not  this  faith,  but  to  those 
who  have  it ;  those  who,  knowing  something  of  the 
results  of  criticism  in  the  past,  retain  a  reasonable 
confidence  that  nothing  will  emerge  finally  from  the 
critical  movements  of  the  present  that  can  materially 
affect  our  conceptions  of  the  great  outlines  of  God’s 
historical  revelation,  or  obliterate  those  evidences  of  an 
organism  of  truth  in  Scripture  which  force  themselves, 
almost  without  seeking,  on  every  observant  mind. 

Must  theology,  then,  whose  daughter  “  dogma  ”  is, 
in  face  of  these  hostile  forces,  vacate  her  throne,  and 
resign  her  pretensions  to  have  any  sure  and  verifiable 
results  to  lay  before  men  ?  So  it  is  often  argued,  but 
I  am  far  from  thinking  that  this  is  the  case.  While 
conscious,  I  hope,  of  the  limits  of  thought  on  such  a 
subject,  I  believe,  as  I  have  always  done,  that  there  is 
a  place  and  need  for  doctrinal  theology  ;  that  there  is 
a  truth,  or  sum  of  truths,  involved  in  the  Biblical  revela¬ 
tion,  for  which  it  is  the  duty  of  the  Church  to  bear 
witness  ;  that  Christianity  is  not  something  utterly 
formless  and  vague,  but  has  an  ascertainable,  statable 
content,  which  it  is  the  business  of  the  Church  to  find 

1  Cf.  Appendix. 


CHRISTIANITY  CONTAINS  DOCTRINE 


9 


out,  to  declare,  to  defend,  and  ever  more  perfectly  to 
seek  to  unfold  in  the  connection  of  its  parts,  and  in 
relation  to  advancing  knowledge  ;  that  this  content  of 
truth  is  not  something  that  can  be  manipulated  into 
any  shape  men’s  fancies  please,  but  something  in  regard 
to  which  we  should  not  despair  of  being  able  to  arrive 
at  a  large  measure  of  agreement,  if,  indeed,  the  Protestant 
Churches  have  not  already  so  arrived.1  I  believe  also, 
with  more  direct  relation  to  our  present  subject,  that,  so 
far  from  the  history  of  dogma  being  the  fatuous,  illusory 
thing  that  many  people  suppose,  there  is  a  true  law  and 
logic  underlying  its  progress,  a  true  divine  purpose  and 
leading  in  its  developments,  a  deeper  and  more  complete 
understanding  of  Christianity  in  its  many-sided  relations 
being  wrought  out  by  its  labours  ;  and  that,  while  its 
advance  has  not  been  without  much  conflict,  much 
error,  much  implication  with  human  sin  and  infirmity, 
and  is  yet  far  from  complete,  that  advance  has  in  the 
main  been  onward,  and  has  yielded  results  which  further 
progress  will  not  subvert,  any  more  than  the  future 
developments  of  science  will  subvert,  say,  such  dis¬ 
coveries  as  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  or  the  law  of 
gravitation. 

The  fact  remains,  however,  that  dogma,  as  we  have 
it,  is  a  development  in  time — a  work  of  the  human 
spirit  operating  on  the  matter  furnished  to  faith  in 
divine  revelation.  Is  this  to  its  prejudice?  Or  rather 

1  Assuming  that  there  is,  as  above  contended,  an  ascertainable  doc¬ 
trinal  content  in  Christianity,  it  cannot  but  be  to  the  advantage  both  of 
the  individual  and  of  the  Church  to  think  out  that  content  in  as  clear  and 
coherent  a  way  as  possible,  and  to  give  it  as  accurate  statement  as  is 
attainable.  In  every  other  department  of  truth  the  advantage  of  clear 
notions  and  of  carefully  thought  out  and  methodised  knowledge  is 
recognised.  I  venture  to  say  that  what  the  Church  suffers  from  to-day 
is  not,  as  so  many  think,  too  much  theology,  but  too  little  theology,  of 
an  earnest  kind. 


IO 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


is  it  not  a  singular  testimony  to  the  depth  and  fulness 
of  the  Christian  revelation  that  it  has  this  age-long 
significance — a  content  which  even  yet  the  course  of 
the  centuries  has  not  sufficed  to  exhaust  ? 1  I  shall 
endeavour,  in  the  remainder  of  this  lecture,  to  illustrate 
a  few  of  the  relations  of  dogma  to  its  history,  which 
may  help  us  to  answer  this  question,  and  will  bring  out 
in  a  preparatory  way  what  I  mean  by  a  law  of  progress 
in  dogma,  and  show  how  this  admits  of  being  applied 
in  corroboration  or  correction  of  the  theological  system. 

I.  I  am  well  aware  that  the  claims  I  have  put  forth 
in  the  above  paragraphs  for  dogma — especially  the 
assertion  of  the  stability  of  many  of  its  products — will 
sound  to  many  utterly  extravagant.  Yet,  even  at  this 
preliminary  stage,  I  may  be  permitted  to  observe  that, 
as  already  hinted,  I  affirm  no  more  than  is  already 
involved  in  any  assertion  that  theology  is  a  science. 
For  science  universally  proceeds  on  the  assumption  that 
something  on  the  subject  dealt  with  can  be  known,  and 
that,  if  right  methods  are  employed,  sure  results  may 
be  expected.  It  would  renounce  its  claim  to  be  science, 
if  its  course  were  a  perpetual  discovery  that  all  previous 
steps  had  been  wrong — that  nothing  could  ever  be 
made  out  and  set  down  as  certain.  The  scientific  man, 
eg.,  does  not  go  on  the  assumption  that  probably  the  law 
of  gravitation  will  yet  turn  out  to  be  a  baseless  specula¬ 
tion  ;  that  chemistry  may  prove  to  be  as  illusory  as 
alchemy,  or  astronomy  as  astrology.  It  will  be  said, 
naturally,  that,  while  this  is  true  of  the  experimental 
sciences,  theology  stands  on  a  very  different  footing. 

1  Sabatier  remarks  that,  “strictly  speaking,  there  is  no  Church, 
except  in  Christianity,  and  no  dogmas  save  Christian  dogmas  ”  ( Esqtdsse , 
p.  271  ;  E.T.,  p.  237).  Does  not  this  of  itself  point  to  a  difference  in 
the  nature  of  the  religion,  to  a  fulness  of  doctrinal  meaning  in  Christianity 
which  other  religions  do  not  possess  ? 


THEOLOGY  AND  SCIENCE 


n 


In  many  ways  it  does,  but  its  scientific  character  never¬ 
theless  depends,  as  much  as  in  the  other  case,  on  the 
possibility  of  the  attainment  of  definite  and  reliable 
results,  from  which  further  advance  can  be  made. 
Physical  science  also  recognises  the  law  of  progress. 
It  proceeds  by  small  increments  of  knowledge  ;  there 
may  be,  constantly  are,  mistakes,  rash  theorisings, 
temptations  to  go  off  on  false  scents,  to  overstate 
conclusions  ;  but  these  errors  get  corrected  by  experi¬ 
ence,  and  the  assumption  in  the  midst  of  all  is  that 
there  is  possible,  and  is  being  attained,  a  solid  advance, 
the  building  up  of  a  stable  fabric,  through  the  slow 
adding  of  truth  to  truth.  My  contention  is,  that  this 
must  be  the  case  also  with  theology,  if  it  is  to  make  good 
its  claim  to  be  a  science.1  If  I  am  right  in  thinking 
that  it  is  so,  and  that  the  history  of  dogma  presents  us 
with  an  analogous  advance,  it  is  assuredly  a  truth  which 
needs  very  specially  to  be  spoken  at  the  present  time, 
when  everything,  theologically,  is  being  flung  into  the 
melting-pot,  and  doctrines,  torn  from  their  context  in 
history,  and  in  the  system  of  faith,  are  treated  often  in 
the  most  arbitrary,  dilettante  fashion  ;  or,  it  may  be, 
have  their  character  altogether  changed  through  the 
influence  of  some  quasi-scientific,  quasi-philosophical 
theory,  at  the  same  time,  perhaps,  that  a  protest  is 
being  raised  against  the  importation  of  metaphysics 
into  Christianity  ! 

But,  first,  what  precisely  is  \  dogma  ?  I  have 
used  the  term  hitherto  without  definition,  but  it  is 
desirable  before  going  further  to  arrive  at  a  somewhat 


1  This  brings  us  back  to  the  position  that  the  real  ground  of  the  denial 
of  the  possibility  of  theology,  or  of  a  science  of  dogma,  is  always  at  bottom 
the  denial  that  any  source  of  sure  knowledge  exists,  in  revelation  or 
otherwise,  of  God  and  His  will  and  relations  to  men. 


12 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


nearer  determination.  In  current  usage  the  word  is 
obviously  employed  in  a  wider  and  a  narrower  sense. 
When  Professor  Harnack,  for  instance,  rebutting  a 
contention  of  Sabatier,  says  that  “  Christianity  without 
dogma,  without  a  clear  expression  of  its  content,  is 
inconceivable,”  since  Christianity  “  not  only  awakens 
feeling,  but  has  a  quite  definite  content  which  deter¬ 
mines,  and  should  determine,  the  feeling,”  1  he  clearly 
does  not  use  “  dogma  ”  in  the  stricter  sense  usual  with 
him,  but  employs  it  as  practically  synonymous  with 
“  doctrine.”  Ordinarily  “  dogma  ”  stands,  in  distinction 
from  this,  for  those  formulations  of  Christian  doctrine 
which  have  obtained  authoritative  recognition  in  wide 
sections  of  the  Church,  and  are  embodied  in  historical 
creeds.2  There  are,  indeed,  three  terms — “  doctrine,” 
“  dogma,”  and  “  theology  ” — nearly  related,  but  between 
which  careful  distinction  ought  to  be  drawn  ;  the  more, 
that  a  prejudice  is  often  connected  with  “  dogma  ” 
which  is  not  associated  in  the  same  degree  with  the 
two  others.  “  Doctrine,”  as  Harnack  rightly  declares 
in  the  above  passage,  is  of  the  essence  of  Christianity  ; 
it  is  the  direct,  often  naive,  expression  by  Christian  faith 
of  the  knowledge  it  possesses,  or  the  convictions  it  holds, 
regarding  God  and  divine  things.  It  furnishes  its  basis 
and  material  to  “  theology,”  which  also  is,  in  its  way, 
doctrine — doctrine  in  elaborated  form.  “  Theology  ” 
may  be  described  as  the  reflective  exercise  of  mind 

1  Hist,  of  Dogma,  i.  p.  22  (E.T.). 

2  Originally  “dogma”  was  “opinion,”  what  seems  good  to  one; 
then  the  term  was  applied  to  the  opinions,  decrees,  or  doctrines  of  the 
philosophers  ;  in  the  Church  it  was  equivalent  to  doctrines  ;  finally,  it 
assumed  the  signification  of  doctrines  ecclesiastically  sanctioned.  “Dogma,” 
says  Sabatier,  “in  the  stricter  sense,  is  one  or  more  doctrinal  propositions 
which,  in  a  religious  society,  and  as  a  result  of  the  decisions  of  the  com¬ 
petent  authority,  have  become  the  object  of  faith,  and  the  rule  of  belief 
and  practice  ( Esquisse ,  p.  263;  cf.  p.  230;  E.T.,  pp.  274,  239).  Cf. 
Harnack,  i.  p.  14,  ii.  p.  202  (E.T.). 


“DOCTRINE”  “DOGMA”  “ THEOLOGY ” 


13 


upon  the  doctrines  of  faith.  It  aims  at  taking  accurate 
account  of  Christian  doctrine,  at  giving  it  scientific 
shape  and  grounding,  at  reducing  it  to  system  in  the 
light  of  a  central  principle,  at  exploring  the  problems 
which  it  suggests,  and  exhibiting,  as  far  as  may  be,  its 
reasonableness,  and  relations  with  other  departments  of 
truth.  Theology,  like  doctrine,  therefore,  antecedes 
and  has  a  broader  range  than  “  dogma,”  by  which,  as 
remarked  above,  is  properly  understood  those  formula¬ 
tions  of  Christian  doctrine  which  have  obtained  ecclesi¬ 
astical  sanction,  and  are  embodied  in  the  creeds.  Thus 
regarded,  the  labours  of  theology  are  seen  to  be  the 
presupposition  of  dogma  ;  the  latter,  in  turn,  becomes 
the  basis  of  new  theological  endeavours.  But  there  is 
much  theologising  that  never  attains  to  the  rank  of 
accredited  dogma.  Quite  unwarrantably,  it  seems  to 
me,  does  Professor  Harnack  restrict  what  he  calls  the 
“  genesis  ”  of  dogma  to  the  first  three  centuries,  and 
view  it  as  peculiarly  a  work  of  the  Greek  spirit.  The 
theology  of  Augustine,  e.g.,  is  as  truly  epoch-making 
as  that  of  the  Nicene  Fathers,  and  is  in  no  way 
characteristically  Greek — the  very  opposite.1  Equally 
inadmissible  is  his  attempted  restriction  of  dogma  to 
the  Catholic  Church.  Protestantism  also  has  had  its 
invaluable  share  in  this  work.  Even  the  labours  of 
theology  from  the  time  of  the  Reformation — especially 
the  rich  and  fruitful  developments  of  the  past  century — 
cannot  be  excluded  from  this  survey  ;  for,  if  no  creed 
has  emanated  from  these  labours,  they  have  yet  pro¬ 
foundly  altered,  deepened,  and  enlarged  the  interpreta¬ 
tion  of  the  older  creeds,  and  have  effectually  been 
preparing  the  way  for  that  “  reconstruction  ”  of  dogma 

1  In  a  note  to  the  third  edition  of  Hist,  of  Dogma  (i.  p.  2,  E.T. ), 
Harnack  practically  concedes  the  justice  of  a  criticism  of  Weizsacker’s 
on  this  point. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


H 

in  the  light  of  modern  needs  which  will  come  in  its 
own  good  time. 

A  main  advantage  which  the  study  of  the  relations 
of  dogma  to  its  history  may  be  expected  to  yield  is 
the  test  which  the  history  of  dogma  enables  us  to  apply 
to  dogma  itself.  What  our  age  chiefly  feels  the  need 
of,  I  dare  say,  in  the  midst  of  the  confusions  that  beset 
it,  is  some  way  of  bringing  theological  doctrines  to  a 
higher  test  than  the  individual  judgment.  Many 
theories  are  afloat ;  new  speculations  ;  new  construc¬ 
tions  of  doctrine  ;  each  man  claiming  the  right  to  set 
aside  the  past,  and  put  his  fresh-coined  fancy  in  its 
place.  Is  there  any  way  of  bringing  these  conflicting 
opinions  to  an  objective  decision,  or  must  it  be  in 
theology  as  in  no  other  branch  of  science,  quot  homines , 
tot  sentential  The  days  are  past  when  we  can  appeal, 
with  the  early  Church,  to  fresh  apostolic  tradition  ;  we 
refuse  to  bow,  with  the  Middle  Ages,  to  decisions  of 
councils  and  canonists ;  we  repudiate  the  Romanist 
assumption  of  an  infallible  head  of  the  Church  ;  we 
decline,  with  the  rationalist,  to  submit  everything  to  the 
rule  of  natural  reason.  Yet  in  the  evolution  of  dogma 
the  need  is  imperative  for  some  criteria  by  which  sound 
and  healthy  developments  may  be  discriminated  from 
such  as  are  the  reverse.  Do  such  criteria  exist  ? 

Naturally,  our  minds  turn  here  first  to  Scripture, 
which  must  always  be  the  ultimate  test.  There  is  one 
use  at  least  to  which  Scripture  may  always  be  put — 
negative,  and  yet  immensely  important  as  clearing 
away  much  that  does  not  belong  to  the  system  of 
truth  for  which  the  Church  is  called  to  contend.  There 
may  be  disputes  about  the  authority  of  Scripture,  but 
there  ought  to  be  no  dispute  about  this,  that  whatever 
has  no  place  in  Scripture,  or  cannot  be  legitimately 


CRITERIA  OF  DOGMAS 


15 

deduced  from  it,  is  no  part  of  the  truth  of  revelation 
for  which  the  Church  is  set  as  “the  ground  and  pillar.”1 
This,  I  take  it,  is  the  distinction  between  Protestantism 
and  Roman  Catholicism,  and  it  warrants  11s  in  rejecting 
straight  off  a  vast  mass  of  what  passes  as  Catholic 
dogma,  and  cuts  no  less  at  the  roots  of  many  of  the 
theories  of  modern  Protestantism.2  On  the  positive 
side,  equally,  Holy  Scripture  is  the  ultimate  source  of 
our  knowledge  of  the  facts  and  laws  of  Divine  revelation. 
But  apart  from  the  difficulties  formerly  referred  to,  there 
remains  the  fact  that  all  systems  equally  appeal  to 
Scripture,  and  there  would  still  seem  to  be  the  need  of 
a  tribunal  to  decide  on  this  appeal.  It  is  easy  to  speak 
of  appeal  to  Scripture,  but  it  is  to  be  remembered  that 
this  very  application  to  Scripture  cannot  be  divorced 
from  that  growing  insight  into  its  plan  and  purpose — 
into  the  organic  unity  and  fundamental  harmony  of  its 
doctrinal  content — which  is  the  result,  partly,  indeed,  of 
our  improved  method  of  using  it,  but  partly  also  of 
that  very  history  of  dogma  which  we  propose  to  test  by 
it.  We  are  more  dependent  on  the  past  than  we  think 
even  in  our  interpretation  of  Scripture ;  and  it  would  be 
as  futile  for  any  man  to  attempt  to  draw  his  system  of 
doctrine  at  first  hand  from  Scripture,  as  it  would  be  for 
a  man  of  science  to  draw  his  scientific  knowledge  direct 
from  nature,  unaided  by  text-books,  or  the  laborious 
researches  of  the  myriad  workers  in  the  same  field. 

There  are  secondary  criteria  of  the  soundness  of 
a  doctrinal  system  which  I  should  be  the  last  to 
depreciate — which  are,  in  fact,  of  the  highest  value. 
There  is,  e.g.,  the  inner  coherence  and  correlation  of 

1  1  Tim.  iii.  15. 

2  What,  e.g.,  will  always  keep  the  Church  from  making  a  dogma  of 
Universalism  is  the  fact  that  this  doctrine  is  at  least  not  plainly  taught  in 
Scripture — some  will  go  further,  and  say,  is  expressly  contradicted  by  it. 


i6 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


parts  in  the  system  itself — its  organic  unity — which 
is  a  check  against  any  member  of  the  system  being 
wantonly  tampered  with,  or  dissevered  from  the  rest. 
There  is,  again,  the  correlation  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
system  with  vital  Christian  experience ,  by  which  I  mean 
not  simply  the  casual  experience  of  the  individual,  but 
the  experience  of  the  Church  as  a  whole — of  its  greater 
as  well  as  its  humbler  souls — its  Augustines  and  Anselms 
and  Bernards  and  Luthers,  as  well  as  its  obscurer  saints 
— and  of  these  in  their  loftiest  as  in  their  deeper  moods. 
That  only  can  be  truth  which  is  fitted  to  sustain  such 
experience,  to  plumb  its  depths,  and  to  supply  the  full 
provision  for  its  need.  A  species  of  value-judging  this 
to  which  none  will  take  exceotion  !  There  is  once 

JL 

more  the  appeal  to  the  practical  effects — verification  by 
results.  One  simple  form  in  which  this  test  can  be 
applied — apart  from  moral  fruits — is  that  of  workable¬ 
ness.  There  are  denials,  we  know,  of  nearly  all  the 
great  doctrines  of  the  evangelical  creeds — of  the  deity 
of  the  Saviour,  of  His  atoning  work,  of  regeneration  by 
the  Spirit,  of  justification  by  faith — but  it  is  singular 
that  those  responsible  for  such  denials  seldom  attempt 
to  establish  a  Church  upon  them.  Where  they  do,  it 
does  not  thrive.  The  very  Churches  in  which  the 
impugners  of  the  doctrines  promulgate  their  denials 
rest  on  the  public  profession  of  the  doctrines  which 
they  seek  to  subvert,  and  would  lose  their  vitality  and 
power,  if  cut  away  from  faith  in  them. 

These  tests  are  all  valuable,  and  I  do  not  say 
they  are  insufficient.  Still  it  may  be  felt  that,  in  the 
divergent  state  of  opinion  around  us,  they  do  not,  after 
all,  sufficiently  eliminate  the  subjective  element :  that 
there  is  still  need  for  a  more  objective  criterion — one 
which  will  lift  us  above  the  uncertainties  and  fallibilities 


HISTORY  A  CRITERION  OF  DOGMA 


17 


of  individual  judgment,  and  place  our  feet  on  more 
stable  ground.  Is  there  such  a  criterion  ?  Absolutely, 
of  course,  there  is  not ;  but  the  nearest  approach  to  it 
is  probably  the  method  I  propose  to  follow  in  the 
present  lectures — that  of  appeal  to  the  rigorous,  im¬ 
partial,  one  might  almost  say,  if  sufficient  time  is 
given,  the  practically  unerring  verdict  of  history .  Here 
is  a  tribunal  before  which  the  personal  equation  in 
the  individual  judgment  is  cancelled  ;  the  accidental 
elements  in  the  thought  of  an  age  drop  away,  and 
only  its  abiding  contribution  to  truth  is  retained.  We 
are  familiar  with  Schiller’s  saying  that  the  history  of  the 
world  is  the  judgment  of  the  world.  It  is  at  least  true 
that  the  history  of  dogma  is  the  judgment  of  dogma. 
One  thing  I  am  absolutely  persuaded  of,  that,  whatever 
imperfections  inhere  in  our  existing  creeds,  no  phase  of 
doctrine  which  the  Church  has  with  full  deliberation 
rejected — which,  on  each  occasion  of  its  reappearance,  it 
has  persisted  in  rejecting — need  raise  its  head  now  with 
any  hope  of  permanent  acceptance.  And  this  principle 
alone,  as  we  shall  see,  carries  us  a  long  way.  The 
history  of  dogma  criticises  dogma  ;  corrects  mistakes, 
eliminates  temporary  elements,  supplements  defects ; 
incorporates  the  gains  of  the  past,  at  the  same  time 
that  it  opens  up  wider  horizons  for  the  future.  But  its 
clock  never  goes  back.  It  never  returns  upon  itself  to 
take  up  as  part  of  its  creed  what  it  has  formally,  and 
with  full  consciousness,  rejected  at  some  bygone  stage. 

I  often  feel  that,  in  our  revolt  against  traditional 
“  dogma,”  too  little  weight  is  given  to  this  fact  that  the 
system  of  doctrine  embodied  in  our  creeds  is  the 
product  of  centuries  of  development,  and  long  testing 
in  the  fires  of  controversy.  I  hope  that  before  this 
course  of  lectures  is  finished  it  will  be  apparent  that  I 
am  no  opponent  of  real  progress  in  theology.  I  plant 

c 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


tB 

myself  here,  in  truth,  on  the  most  modern  of  all 
doctrines  —  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  supposed  by 
many  to  be  fatal  to  the  permanence  of  dogma.  There 
has  been  evolution  of  doctrine  in  the  past,  and  there 
will  be  evolution  in  the  future.  But  evolution  means 
that  there  has  been  something  evolving  ;  and  pro  tanto , 
if  the  evolution  has  not  been  utterly  fatuous,  there 
must  be,  as  remarked  about  science,  results  of  that 
process  put  on  record.  What  I  complain  of  in  many 
of  the  apostles  of  the  “  new  theology  ”  is  that,  in  their 
eagerness  for  the  new,  they  really  ignore  this  primary 
article  of  their  own  creed.  For  we  do  not,  after  all, 
begin  de  novo  in  our  search  for  a  theological  system, 
any  more  than  science,  in  its  study  of  nature,  begins 
with  an  unpeopled  world.  The  thing  which  confronts 
us  when  we  look  into  the  matter  is,  that  in  all  the  great 
Protestant  Churches  there  is  a  system  of  doctrine  in 
possession — a  system  professedly  based  on  Scripture, 
and  embodied,  in  its  essentials,  in  the  acknowledged 
Reformation  Creeds.  I  do  not,  of  course,  argue  that, 
because  a  doctrine  is  found  in  any  or  all  of  these 
creeds,  it  is  necessarily  true  ;  but  what  I  do  say  is,  that 
when  we  are  in  search  of  a  criterion  to  determine 
what  does,  and  what  does  not,  belong  to  the  genuine 
doctrinal  content  of  Christianity,  this  practically  con¬ 
sentient  body  of  doctrine  in  the  great  Church  Creeds  is 
not  a  fact  to  be  ignored — is,  indeed,  a  weighty  fact  to 
start  from — one  which  gives  that  body  of  doctrine  a 
strong  prima  facie  claim  on  our  consideration.  The 
fact  that  these  creeds  are,  as  we  are  so  often  reminded 
to  their  disadvantage,  the  products  of  historical  develop¬ 
ment,  is  precisely  the  fact  which  gives  them,  to  my 
mind,  their  peculiar  value  as  witnesses.  They  are  not 
the  creations  of  individual  minds.  They  have  centuries 
of  development,  of  conflict,  of  witness-bearing,  behind 


THEOLOGY  AND  EVOLUTION 


19 


them.  Their  success  in  history  is  the  counterpart  of 
the  failure  of  the  opposite  views  to  commend  themselves 
— to  hold  their  ground  in  battle.  They  represent  the 
“  survival  of  the  fittest  ”  in  doctrine  under  the  severest 
possible  strain.  Not  one  of  these  doctrines  but  has 
been  hacked  and  hewed  at  till,  if  it  had  not  been 
founded  on  God’s  word,  and  felt  to  be  true  to  Christian 
experience,  the  breath  would  have  gone  out  of  it  long 
ago.  Yet  men  fling  it  aside  as  if  this  simple  fact  that 
it  is  old — has  survived  all  this  brunt  of  battle — were 
sufficient  without  further  ado  to  condemn  it !  It  is  not 
explained  why,  in  every  other  sphere,  the  surviving 
product  in  an  evolutionary  process  should  be  the  fittest, 
and  dogma  alone  should  be  an  exception. 

One  answer,  I  know,  that  will  be  made  to  this  line 
of  argument  is  that,  seeing  the  evolutionary  process  is 
not  yet  complete,  we  cannot  tell  what  the  future  may 
bring  forth — what  changes,  what  transformations  ;  nay, 
by  adhering  to  the  old  and  obsolete,  we  place  an  arrest 
on  further  progress,  and  deny  the  fact  of  evolution 
itself.  A  double  fallacy,  it  seems  to  me,  underlies  this 
objection.  First,  there  is  a  fallacy  in  the  initial 
assumption  that  an  evolutionary  process  is  one  of 
unlimited  flux  and  change,  and  yields  no  stable 
products  in  its  course  —  an  assumption  contrary  to 
every  principle  of  science ;  and  second,  there  is  an 
overlooking  of  the  fact  that  a  true  evolution  is  organic , 
i,e>,  is  a  continuation  of  the  developments  of  the  past, 
not  a  reversal  of  them.  Genuine  evolution  illustrates  a 
law  of  continuity.  It  is  not  a  violent  breaking  with 
preceding  forms,  but  proves  its  legitimacy  by  its 
capability  of  fitting  into  a  development  already,  perhaps, 
in  large  measure  accomplished.  In  like  manner,  the 
test  of  a  sound  theological  development  is  not  its 
independence  of  what  has  gone  before,  but  the  degree 


20 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


of  its  respect  for  it,  the  depth  of  its  insight  into  it,  and 
its  capacity  of  uniting  itself  with  it,  and  of  carrying  it 
a  stage  further  towards  completion. 

II.  When,  however,  I  speak  in  these  lectures  of  the 
history  of  doctrine  as  a  test  of  theological  system,  and 
of  a  law  or  logic  in  that  history,  I  desire  now  to  say 
that  I  have  in  view  something  much  more  specific  than 
these  general  principles  involved  in  all  development. 
The  late  Dr.  J.  H.  Newman,  eg.,  in  his  famous  essay  on 
the  Development  of  Christian  Doctrine ,  laid  down  what 
we  must  recognise  as  sound  general  principles — the 
very  soundest — however  much  we  may  differ  from  him 
in  the  application  of  them.  The  first  note  of  a  genuine 
development,  he  tells  us,  is  Preservation  of  Type  ;  the 
second  is  Continuity  of  Principle  ;  the  third,  Power  of 
of  Assimilation  ;  the  fourth,  Logical  Sequence ;  the 
fifth,  Anticipation  of  the  Future  ;  the  sixth,  Conserva¬ 
tive  Action  in  the  Past ;  the  seventh,  Chronic  Vigour.1 
The  principles  are  excellent :  by  their  help  we  might,  I 
think,  refute  very  successfully  much  that  is  advanced 
by  Dr.  Newman  himself.  Yet,  just  because  of  their 
generality,  it  is  certain  that,  had  we  nothing  more,  we 
should  be  left  at  the  end  of  our  inquiry  very  much 
where  we  were  at  the  beginning.  The  idea  I  wish 
to  illustrate  int  these  lectures  is  different.  It  is  not  in 
its  nature  recondite,  yet  it  has  not,  so  far  as  I  have 
observed,  been  made  much  use  of  in  discussions  on  the 
history  of  dogma.  It  is  not  general  principles  of 
evolution  we  are  in  search  of,  but  the  immanent  law  of 
the  actual  history ;  and  when  we  seize  the  nature  of 
that  law,  it  will  not  only,  I  conceive,  prevent  us  ever 
after  from  regarding  the  development  of  dogma  as  a 
maze  of  irrationality,  but  will  be  seen  to  furnish  us 

1  Chapter  v. 


PARALLELISM  OF  DOGMA  AND  HISTORY  21 


with  a  corroboration,  and  in  some  measure  a  rationale , 
of  our  Protestant  Evangelical  Creeds  ;  will  yield  us  a 
clue  to  their  right  understanding,  and,  what  is  not  less 
important,  an  aid  to  their  further  perfecting. 

Has  it  ever  struck  you,  then, — you  will  not  find  it 
noticed  in  the  ordinary  books,  but  I  am  sure  your 
attention  cannot  be  drawn  to  it  without  your  perceiving 
that  there  must  be  more  underlying  it  than  meets 
the  eye — what  a  singular  parallel  there  is  between  the 
historical  course  of  dogma,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
scientific  order  of  the  text-books  on  systematic  theology 
on  the  other  ?  The  history  of  dogma,  as  you  speedily 
discover,  is  simply  the  system  of  theology  spread  out 
through  the  centuries — theology,  as  Plato  would  say, 
“  writ  large  ” — and  this  not  only  as  regards  its  general 
subject-matter,  but  even  as  respects  the  definite  succes¬ 
sion  of  its  parts.  The  temporal  and  the  logical  order 
correspond.  The  articulation  of  the  system  in  your 
text-books  is  the  very  articulation  of  the  system  in  its 
development  in  history.  Take,  for  example,  any 
accredited  theological  text-book,  and  observe  the  order 
of  its  treatment.  What  we  ordinarily  find  is  something 
like  this.1  Its  opening  sections  are  probably  occupied 
with  matters  of  Theological  Prolegomena  —  with 
apologetics,  the  general  idea  of  religion,  revelation,  the 
relation  of  faith  to  reason,  Holy  Scripture,  and  the  like. 
Then  follow  the  great  divisions  of  the  theological 
system  —  Theology  proper,  or  the  doctrine  of  God  ; 
Anthropology,  or  the  doctrine  of  man,  including  sin 
(sometimes  a  separate  division) ;  Christology,  or  the 
doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ ;  Soteriology  (Objective), 
or  the  doctrine  of  the  work  of  Christ,  especially  the 

1  The  order  is  generally  practically  followed  even  where  the  designations 
vary. 


22 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Atonement ;  Subjective  Soteriology,  or  the  doctrine  of 
the  application  of  redemption  (Justification,  Regenera¬ 
tion,  etc.)  ;  finally,  Eschatology,  or  the  doctrine  of  the 
last  things.  If  now,  planting  yourself  at  the  close  of 
the  Apostolic  Age,  you  cast  your  eye  down  the  course  of 
the  succeeding  centuries,  you  find,  taking  as  an  easy 
guide  the  great  historical  controversies  of  the  Church, 
that  what  you  have  is  simply  the  projection  of  this 
logical  system  on  a  vast  temporal  screen.  A  glance  at 
the  subjects  of  my  lectures,  with  the  details  that  are 
immediately  to  follow,  should  convince  anyone  of  this. 
Meanwhile,  assuming  for  the  moment  that  it  is  as  I 
say,  let  me  ask  you  to  reflect  on  what  so  remarkable  a 
coincidence  implies.  One  thing,  I  think,  it  shows 
unmistakably,  viz.,  that  neither  arrangement  is  arbitrary 
— that  there  is  a  law  and  reason  underlying  it ;  and 
another  thing  which  forces  itself  upon  us  is,  that  the 
law  of  these  two  developments — the  logical  and  the 
historical — is  the  same.  One  is  apt,  I  know,  to  look 
with  suspicion  on  all  attempts  to  force  history  into 
systematic  categories.  Hegel  tried  this  with  history 
generally,  and  Baur  applied  the  same  method  with  no 
small  ingenuity  to  this  very  field  of  Church  history  and 
doctrine.  It  is  not,  however,  in  this  metaphysical  sense 
I  ask  you  to  consider  the  presence  of  law  in  history. 
The  facts  to  which  I  point  need  no  manipulation  of 
mine  to  make  them  suit  the  exigencies  of  a  particular 
theory.  They  lie  upon  the  surface,  and  claim  an  ex¬ 
planation  from  anyone  who  attentively  observes  them.1 
Let  us  try,  in  the  first  place,  to  understand  the  law  which 
discovers  itself  in  the  logical  arrangement,  then  consider 
the  closeness  of  the  historic  parallel. 

1  Harnack,  whose  own  method  is  so  different,  is  often  struck  with  this 
upcropping  of  “logic”  in  history.  Cf.  his  History  of  Dogma  (E.T.),  iii. 
p.  170  ;  iv.  p.  254,  etc. 


PRINCIPLE  OF  DOGMATIC  SYSTEM 


23 


In  the  sketch  just  given  of  the  arrangement  of  the 
theological  system,  not  only  is  the  order  followed  the 
usual  one,  but  it  will  be  perceived  that  there  is  a 
reason  for  this  order — a  logical  principle  which  deter¬ 
mines  it.  The  method,  briefly  stated,  is  simply  to  take 
the  doctrines  in  the  order  of  their  logical  dependence  ; 
in  which  one  forms  the  presupposition  of  the  other. 
The  doctrine  of  redemption,  eg.,  presupposes  that  of 
the  Person  of  the  Redeemer,  and,  prior  to  that,  the 
doctrine  of  sin  ;  the  doctrine  of  sin,  again,  throws  us 
back  on  the  general  doctrine  of  man,  and  also  on 
the  character,  law,  and  moral  administration  of  God  ; 
the  doctrine  of  God,  on  the  other  hand,  underlies  every¬ 
thing — the  doctrine  of  man,  of  sin,  of  Christ,  of  salva¬ 
tion,  of  the  purpose  of  the  world,  of  human  destiny. 
It  is  possible,  no  doubt,  to  alter  or  invert  this  order — 
to  begin,  eg.,  as  Dr.  Chalmers  did,  with  sin  as  the  disease 
for  which  a  remedy  is  provided  ;  or  with  some  recent 
theologians,  with  the  Kingdom  of  God  as  the  goal 
of  the  divine  purpose.  It  is  also  true  that  it  is  only 
in  the  light  of  the  later  doctrines  that  the  wealth  and 
range  of  the  earlier  are  fully  discovered.  Yet  in  the 
logical  order  of  dependence  the  sequence  is  as  I  have 
stated  it.  Just  as  in  nature  it  would  be  found  impossible 
to  expound  chemistry  adequately  without  some  ante¬ 
cedent  knowledge  of  physics,  or  biology  without  some 
knowledge  of  both  chemistry  and  physics ;  so  in 
theology  the  derivative  doctrine  cannot  be  ex¬ 
haustively  expounded  till  those  which  it  presup¬ 
poses  have,  at  least  in  some  measure,  been  explained. 
This,  indeed,  is  the  principle  adopted  in  the  classifica¬ 
tion  of  the  natural  sciences — the  simpler  preceding  the 
more  complex — and  the  attempt  to  proceed  otherwise 
in  theology,  to  work,  eg.,  with  the  doctrine  of  sin,  or 
of  atonement,  without  a  previous  investigation  of  the 


24 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Scriptural  doctrines  of  God,  of  man,  and  of  the  re¬ 
lations  of  both,  can  only  end  in  superficiality  and 
error. 

Such,  then,  is  the  logical  system,  and  the  principle 
on  which  it  is  constructed.  Looking  next  to  the 
development  of  doctrine  as  it  lies  before  us  on  the 
broad  page  of  history,  what  do  we  find  ?  As  stated 
before,  simply  this  logical  system  projected  on  a  vast 
temporal  screen.  The  whole  course  of  lectures  will  be 
an  illustration  of  this  thesis,  so  that  it  is  only  a  quite 
general  indication  that  is  needed  here.  Using,  then,  the 
controversies  which  impelled  the  Church  in  the  for¬ 
mation  of  its  creed  as  a  guiding  clue,  mark,  in  a  rapid 
survey,  the  exactitude  of  the  parallel.  The  second 
century  in  the  history  of  the  Church — what  was  that  ? 
The  age  of  Apologetics  and  of  the  vindication  of  the 
fundamental  ideas  of  all  religion — of  the  Christian 
especially — in  conflict  with  Paganism  and  with  the 
Gnostics.  This  was  the  twofold  battle  of  the  Church 
in  that  age.  On  the  one  hand,  it  had  to  vindicate  in 
its  apologies  its  right  to  exist,  and  to  be  tolerated  in 
the  Empire  ;  on  the  other,  it  had  to  defend  its  essential 
conceptions  against  the  lawless  speculations,  and  disin¬ 
tegrating  tendencies,  of  a  fantastic  religious  philo¬ 
sophy.  1  It  was  not  so  much  as  yet  the  special 
doctrines  of  the  Christian  faith  that  were  in  discus¬ 
sion — though  these  also  were  partly  drawn  in — as 
rather  the  broad  truths  that  underlie  all  religion  :  the 
unity,  spirituality,  and  moral  government  of  God, 
man’s  freedom  and  responsibility,  the  certainty  of 
judgment,  the  need  of  repentance,  the  idea  of  revela¬ 
tion,  the  canon  of  Scripture,  the  vindication  of  the 
primary  facts  of  the  Gospel  as  against  those  who 
allegorised  them  into  transactions  of  the  spirit-world,  etc. 

^  Cf.  Lecture  II, 


COURSE  OF  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT  25 


Professor  Harnack  and  his  school  make  it  a  reproach 
against  the  second  century  apologists  that  they  con¬ 
verted  Christianity  into  a  natural  theology.  There  is 
thus  much  truth  in  the  charge,  that  what  we  call 
natural  theology  had,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case, 
a  large  place  in  treatises  addressed  to  pagans.  But 
what  I  have  to  point  out  now  is,  how  in  all  this 
we  are  still  in  the  forecourt  of  theology  ;  just  as,  in 
the  same  place  in  the  logical  scheme,  or  discipline 
preparatory  to  it,  we  find  ourselves  dealing  with 
natural  theology,  apologetics,  canonics,  the  ideas  of 
religion  and  revelation,  and  the  historicity  of  the 
Christian  facts.  The  most  fundamental  questions,  in 
short,  are  those  which  challenged  first  the  judgment  of 
the  Church. 

We  pass  to  the  next  stage  in  the  development,  and 
what  do  we  find  there  ?  Just  what  comes  next  in  the 
theological  system — Theology  Proper — the  Christian 
doctrine  of  God,  and  specially  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity.  This  period  is  covered  by  the  Monar chian, 
Arian ,  and  Macedonian  controversies  of  the  third  and 
fourth  centuries,  in  which  the  Church  was  called  to 
conflict  with  these  various  forms  of  error  : — first,  in 
opposition  to  Unitarian,  Patripassian,  and  Sabellian 
perversions,  vindicating  the  general  doctrine  of  the 
personal  Trinity  ;  second,  as  against  the  denials  of 
Arianism,  upholding  the  true  and  essential  divinity 
of  the  Son  ;  and  third,  as  against  Macedonianism, 
asserting  the  true  deity  and  personality  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  1  These  classical  controversies  follow^,  it  will 
be  observed,  the  logical  order  of  Father,  Son,  and 
Spirit,  and  represent  positions  won  from  the  enemy, 
frontier  fortresses  captured,  lines  laid  down,  from  which 
the  Christian  Church  has  never  since  been,  probably 

1  Cf.  Lectures  III.  and  IV. 


26 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


never  will  be,  dislodged.  Their  results  have  entered 
into  all  the  great  creeds,  and  form,  we  may  believe,  an 
inalienable  possession  of  theology. 

What  comes  next  ?  As  in  the  logical  system 
theology  is  succeeded  by  Anthropology ,  so  in  the 
history  of  dogma  the  controversies  I  have  named  are 
followed  in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  by  the 
Augustinian  and  Pelagian  controversies,  in  which, 
corresponding  with  the  change  of  theological  activity 
from  East  to  West,  the  centre  of  interest  shifts  from 
God  to  man — from  transcendental  discussions  on  the 
Trinity  to  the  intensely  real  and  practical  questions 
of  sin  and  grace,  which  the  speculative  East,  with  its 
stronger  sense  of  freedom,  was  tempted  to  pass  over  all 
too  superficially. 1  In  the  Latin  Church,  on  the  other 
hand,  ever  since  the  days  of  Tertullian — through 
Cyprian,  Hilary,  and  Ambrose — the  way  had  been 
preparing  for  the  serious  study  of  these  questions. 
But  it  was  the  great  mind  of  Augustine,  initiated 
into  their  depths  by  dearly-bought  experience,  and 
led  to  more  precise  formulation  of  the  issues  through 
conflict  with  Pelagianism,  that  first  brought  them  to  an 
issue.  No  grander  figure,  despite  his  undeniable 
limitations,  has  ever  risen  in  the  Christian  Church 
than  Augustine — a  man  as  peculiarly  raised  up  and 
providentially  fitted  for  the  work  he  had  to  do  as 
the  Apostle  Paul  himself. 2  He,  too,  has  won  for 
the  Church  positions  of  which  the  Protestant  doctrines 
of  grace  are  the  consistent  development  ;  while 
Catholicism,  after  acknowledging  his  supremacy 

1  Cf.  Lecture  V. 

2  It  is  one  of  the  outstanding  merits  of  Harnack’s  work  on  Dogma  that 
he  is  able  to  do  so  much  justice  to  Augustine.  Only  Augustinian  theology, 
with  which  sympathy  is  shown,  needs  to  sustain  it  a  stronger  foundation 
than  Iiarnack’s  picture  of  original  Christianity  yields. 


COURSE  OF  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT  27 


through  practically  the  whole  Middle  Age,  has  sunk 
back  into- a  species  of  Semi-Pelagianism.1 

Augustinianism,  however,  in  conflict  with  Pelagianism, 
is  not  the  only  great  development  of  the  Post-Nicene 
age.  As  in  the  theological  system  Christology  follows 
Anthropology,  and  forms  the  transition  from  the  latter  to 
Soteriology,  so  is  it  here.  From  the  time  of  Augustine’s 
death  we  see  the  Church  entering  on  that  long  and 
distracting  series  of  controversies  known  as  Christo- 
logical — Nestorian,  Euty chian,  Monophysite ,  Monothelite 2 
— which  kept  it  in  continual  ferment,  and  rent  it  with 
the  most  unchristlike  passions  during  the  fifth  and  sixth, 
on  even  till  near  the  end  of  the  seventh,  centuries.  This 
is  perhaps,  hardly  even  excepting  some  in  the  Lutheran 
Church,  the  most  unlovely  series  of  disputes  in  the  whole 
history  of  Christianity,  and  it  is  grievous  to  reflect  that, 
of  all  things,  it  was  the  Saviour’s  Person  that  was  the 
occasion  of  them.3  Yet  even  here,  as  impartial  inspec¬ 
tion  will  convince  us,  there  was  a  logic  in  the  process  ; 
the  best  men  knew  the  importance  of  the  issues  they 
were  contending  for,  and  the  Chalcedonian  decisions 
have  been  accepted  by  most  Churches  as,  if  not  a 
final  formulation — for  what  formula  on  such  a  subject 
can  be  regarded  as  final? — at  least  marking  off  the 
bounds  within  which  a  true  doctrine  of  our  Lord’s 
Person  must  move. 

This  concludes  the  development  of  doctrine  in  the 
ancient  Church.  Meanwhile,  growing  up  beside  it,  and 
threatening  to  check  further  advance  in  a  healthy 
direction,  was  a  vast  sacerdotal  system,  with  theological 
conceptions  of  its  own,  the  baleful  influence  of  which 
remained  unbroken  till  the  great  revolt  of  the  Reforma- 

1  Cf.  Lecture  V. 

2  Cf.  Lecture  VI.  Apollinarianism  in  the  fourth  century  was  an 

important  prelude.  3  Ibid. \ 


28 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


tion.  Yet  the  progress  of  doctrine  was  not  at  a 
standstill  in  the  interval.  Theology,  Anthropology, 
Christology  had  each  had  its  day — in  the  order  of  the 
theological  system,  which  the  history  still  carefully 
follows,  it  was  now  the  turn  of  Soteriology.  Hitherto 
the  doctrine  of  atonement,  while  always,  as  I  shall  seek 
to  show,  held  fast  and  central  in  the  faith  of  the  Church, 
had  never  been  theologically  investigated  as  the  other 
doctrines  had  been,  and  many  crude  and  tentative  con¬ 
ceptions  had  maintained  themselves  side  by  side  with 
profounder  apprehensions.1  Now,  with  Anselm,  in  his 
Cur  Deus  Homo ,  the  problem  entered  definitely  into 
the  mind  of  the  Church  for  examination  and  solution, 
and  Christological  questions  were  brought  formally  into 
relation  with  Soteriological.  Anselm’s  theology,  while 
embodying  elements  of  deep  truth,  had  the  necessary 
defects  of  first  great  attempts,  and  it  required  the  explicit 
antithesis  of  Abelard,  who  represents  the  principle  of  the 
moral  as  against  the  satisfaction  theories  of  the  atonement, 
to  bring  out  into  clearness  the  nature  of  the  issues 
involved.2  The  problem,  however,  was  now  definitely 
seized.  Bernard  and  Aquinas  laboured  at  it,  not  without 
result ;  till,  at  the  Reformation,  when  Christ’s  death  was 
grasped  in  its  full  significance  in  relation  to  divine  law, 
as  the  ground  of  the  sinner’s  justification,  the  doctrine 
may  be  said  to  have  reached  in  essentials  the  form  in 
which  it  has  entered  into  the  greater  Protestant  Creeds. 

Soteriology,  then,  holds  the  place  we  should  expect 
on  the  theory  of  the  parallelism  of  the  logical  and 
historical  development ;  but,  if  our  hypothesis  holds 
good  thus  far,  it  is  assuredly  not  refuted  by  the  next 
step,  that  taken  by  the  Reformers  in  the  development  of 
the  doctrine  of  the  Application  of  Redemption .3  This, 
as  we  saw,  is  the  next  great  division  in  the  theological 
1  Cf.  Lecture  VII.  2  Ibid.  3  Cf.  Lecture  VIII. 


COURSE  OF  HISTORIC  DEVELOPMENT 


29 


system — Subjective  Soteriology ,  as  some  term  it — which 
includes  the  doctrines  of  Justification,  Regeneration, 
Sanctification,  and  the  New  Life.  The  parallel  here  is 
so  obvious  that  I  need  not  stay  to  enlarge  upon  it.  The 
Reformers,  as  is  sometimes,  not  quite  fairly,  pointed  out  to 
their  reproach,  took  over  practically  unchanged  the  results 
of  previous  developments  in  doctrine — the  Theology, 
the  Anthropology,  the  Christology,  the  doctrine  of 
Atonement,  of  the  older  Church  ; 1  but  they  concentrated 
all  their  own  energy  on  the  bearings  of  redemption  on 
the  relation  of  God  to  the  individual  sinner — on  Justi¬ 
fication,  on  Regeneration,  on  Sanctification,  and  Good 
Works.  These,  as  is  well  known,  were  the  great  living 
issues  in  the  Reformation  period — its  special  contribution 
to  the  history  of  doctrine.  And  its  results  also  abide. 

What  now  shall  I  say  of  the  remaining  branch  of 
the  theological  system,  the  Eschatological  ?  An 
Eschatology,  indeed,  there  was  in  the  early  Church, 
but  it  was  not  theologically  conceived  ;  and  a  Mythical 
Eschatology  there  was  in  the  Mediseval  Church — an 
Eschatology  of  Heaven,  Hell,  and  Purgatory — to  which 
I  shall  refer  hereafter.2  But  the  Reformation  swept 
this  away,  and,  with  its  sharply  contrasted  states  of 
bliss  and  woe,  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  put  anything 
in  its  place,  or  even  to  have  faced  very  distinctly  the 
difficulties  of  the  problem,  as  these  force  themselves 
upon  the  modern  mind,  with  its  larger  outlook  on  the 
ways  of  God  and  providence.3  Probably  I  am  not 
mistaken  in  thinking  that,  besides  the  necessary  revision 
of  the  theological  system  as  a  whole,  which  could  not 
properly  be  undertaken  till  the  historical  development 
I  have  sketched  had  run  its  course,  the  modern  mind 
has  given  itself  with  special  earnestness  to  eschatological 
questions,  moved  thereto,  perhaps,  by  the  solemn  im- 
1  Cf.  Lecture  VIII.  2  Cf.  Lectures  IX.  and  X.  3  Cf.  Lecture  X. 


30 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


pression  that  on  it  the  ends  of  the  world  have  come, 
and  that  some  great  crisis  in  the  history  of  human 
affairs  is  approaching.1  Even  here  I  do  not  anticipate 
that  the  great  landmarks  of  Christian  doctrine  will 
undergo  any  serious  change.  The  chief  result  may  be 
to  teach  us  caution  in  speaking  on  a  subject,  so  many 
of  the  elements  of  which  are  yet  beyond  our  grasp. 

III.  I  trust  I  have  succeeded  in  showing  in  outline 
what  I  mean  when  I  speak  of  a  parallel  between  the 
theological  system  and  the  historical  development  of 
dogma,  and  of  a  logical  law  underlying  both.  The  law 
is,  indeed,  in  both  cases  the  same.  The  development 
is  not  arbitrary,  but  is  shaped  by  the  inner  reason 
and  necessity  of  the  case.  The  simpler  precedes  the 
more  complex  ;  fundamental  doctrines  those  which  need 
the  former  as  their  basis  ;  problems  in  the  order  in 
which  they  naturally  and  inevitably  arise  in  the  evolu¬ 
tion  of  thought.  The  result  is,  that  instead  of  inextri¬ 
cable  confusion  in  history,  we  see  the  creation  of  an 
organism  ;  instead  of  fatuity  and  error,  the  gradual 
evolution  and  vindication  of  a  system  of  truth.  Thus 
there  is  created  a  test  of  the  value  not  simply  of  the 
existing  doctrinal  system,  but  of  any  theory  claiming 
to  be  an  enlargement  of,  or  substitute  for,  the  older 
forms  of  faith.  I  am  very  far  from  disputing  that 
there  is  still  room  for  fresh  developments  in  theology. 
Existing  systems  are  not  final  ;  as  works  of  human 
understanding  they  are  necessarily  imperfect ;  there  is 
none  which  is  not  in  some  degree  affected  by  the  nature 
of  the  intellectual  environment,  and  the  factors  the 
mind  had,  at  the  time  of  its  formation,  to  work  with.  I 
do  not  question,  therefore,  that  there  are  still  sides  and 
aspects  of  divine  truth  to  which  full  justice  has  not  yet 

1  Cf.  Lecture  X. 


LIMITS  OF  PROGRESS  IN  DOGMA 


3i 


been  accorded  ;  improvements  that  can  be  made  in  our 
conception  and  formulation  of  all  the  doctrines,  and  in 
their  correlation  with  each  other.  All  I  am  contending 
for  is,  that  such  a  development  shall  be  a  development 
within  Christianity  and  not  away  from  it ;  that  it  shall 
recognise  its  connection  with  the  past,  and  unite  itself 
organically  with  it ;  and  that  it  shall  not  spurn  the 
past  development,  as  if  nothing  of  permanent  value  had 
been  accomplished  by  it.  As  I  have  already  tried  to 
show,  so  far  from  this  contemptuous  attitude  to  the 
past  being  in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  true  evolu¬ 
tionary  science,  it  is  a  flagrant  departure  from  it.  Every 
discovery  of  new  law  in  science  fits  in  with  previous 
developments,  and  carries  these  a  stage  further  forward  ; 
avails  itself  of  past  generalisations  as  an  aid  to  further 
progress ;  verifies  them  through  the  new  and  wider 
truths  to  which  they  lead.  So  far  as  a  theory  is  true,  it 
at  once  explains  previous  facts,  and  is  verified  by  them. 

Yet  here  again,  perhaps,  there  is  need  for  a  word  of 
caution.  I  am  not  sure  that  we  do  not  err  in  speaking, 
as  we  sometimes  do,  of  the  room  for  advance  in  theology 
as  if  it  were  absolutely  indefinite  ;  as  if  the  chief  part 
of  the  task  of  theology  lay  still  before  it ;  as  if  as 
much  remained  to  be  done  as  though  our  fathers  had 
never  entered  the  field  ;  as  if,  in  short,  the  work  of 
theology  were  still  only  beginning.  It  is  not  always 
remembered  that  in  every  department  of  knowledge, 
theology  not  excepted,  we  have,  as  in  agriculture,  to 
accept  a  law  of  diminishing  returns.  In  art  and  science 
this  law  manifestly  holds.  In  architecture,  we  cannot 
plan  and  build  as  if  Greeks  and  Romans,  Normans  and 
Teutons,  had  not  built  before  us  ;  in  music,  we  do  not 
expect  to  outrival  the  creations  of  Handel  and  Haydn, 
and  Mozart  and  Beethoven ;  in  science,  it  is  not 


32 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


certain  that  the  discoverers  and  inventors  of  the 
twentieth  century  will  have  as  large  and  clear  a  field 
for  their  operations  as  their  predecessors.  The  great 
lines  of  the  sciences,  at  all  events,  are  mapped  out, 
their  foundations  are  laid,  much  of  the  structure  is 
built,  and  this  is  work  that  can  never  be  done  over 
again.  So  in  theology,  I  think,  we  have  to  recognise 
the  fact  that  our  fathers  have  laboured,  and  we  have 
entered  into  their  labours  ;  that  history  has  been  in 
travail  with  these  subjects  for  the  past  nineteen  centuries, 
and  has  brought  forth  more  than  wind  ;  that  we  are 
not  dealing  with  human  speculations,  but  with  a  divine 
revelation,  the  records  of  which  have  been  in  men’s 
hands  from  the  beginning,  and  on  which  men’s  minds 
have  been  directed  with  the  intense  desire  and  prayer 
for  light ;  that  Christ  promised  His  Spirit  to  His 
disciples  to  guide  them  into  truth,  and  not  first  to 
scholars  of  the  nineteenth  century  ;  and  that  the  pre¬ 
sumption — practically  the  certainty — is,  that  the  great 
decisive  landmarks  in  theology  are  already  fixed,  and 
that  we  are  not  called  upon,  nor  will  be  able,  to  remove 
them.  It  is,  of  course,  always  open,  even  in  science, 
to  a  man  to  frame  a  theory  which  goes  on  the  assump¬ 
tion  that  all  the  developments  of  the  past  have  been 
wrong — that,  eg.,  the  earth  is  not  a  sphere,  and  that 
the  Copernican  theory  of  the  heavens  is  a  mistake — 
but  we  generally  regard  him  as  not  wise  !  Within 
limits,  it  should  not  be  otherwise  in  theology.  The 
men  behind  us  have  laid  the  foundations,  and  we  must 
be  content,  I  take  it,  to  build  on  the  foundations  they 
have  laid.  This  leaves  us  still  vast  work  to  do,  but  it 
is  not  their  work.  We  shall  not  make  less  progress  by 
realising  that  there  is  firm  footing  for  us  in  the  past  to 
start  from.  We  may  take  encouragement  from  those  who 
have  gone  before  us  that  our  labour  need  not  be  in  vain. 


II 


Early  Apologetic  and  Fundamental  Religious 
Ideas — Controversy  with  Paganism  and 
Gnosticism  (Second  Century) 


d 


“  The  Gospel  has  a  demonstration  of  its  own,  more  divine  than  any  estab¬ 
lished  by  Grecian  dialectics.” — Origen. 

“Within  certain  limits,  then,  and  on  certain  subjects,  metaphysics  are 
but  another  name  for  thought ;  and  if  we  are  to  have  such  an  understanding 
of  Bible  truths,  and  the  fundamental  ideas  as  I  have  described, — and  persons 
who  profess  to  be  theologians  ought  not  perhaps  to  have  much  less, — we  cannot 
avoid  the  obligation  of  going  through  some  kind  of  metaphysical  thought.”— 
Mozley. 

“  The  historical  vocation  of  Christianity  will  not  be  satisfactorily  fulfilled 
where  men  rest  contented  with  being  firm  in  the  faith,  with  the  deliverance  of 
souls  from  the  world,  but  only  there,  where  Christian  knowledge  or  science  is 
also  held  to  be  the  vocation  of  the  Church.” — Dorner. 


LECTURE  II 


Early  Apologetic  and  Fundamental  Religious  Ideas — Controversy 
with  Paganism  and  Gnosticism  (Second  Century). 

It  has  been  contended  in  the  previous  lecture  that  the 
history  of  dogma,  rightly  understood,  is  but  the  working 
out  of  the  solution  of  the  problem  of  what  belongs  to 
the  essential  content  of  Christianity.  The  elaborate 
doctrinal  articles  embodied  in  our  creeds  seem,  indeed, 
to  stand  far  apart  from  the  simplicity  of  the  original 
gospel,  and  in  one  sense  do  stand  apart  from  it. 
Still  they  are  to  be  judged  by  their  claim  to  unfold  and 
exhibit  in  a  form  which  has  borne  the  test  of  time  the 
content  of  that  original  revelation — to  give  developed 
or  explicit  statement  to  what  is  zV/zplicit,  or  only  frag- 
mentarily  and  unsystematically  expressed,  in  its  Scrip¬ 
tural  records.  Dealing,  however,  as  I  propose  to  do, 
only  with  main  epochs,  I  am  warranted  in  passing  over 
preliminary  stages,  and  in  coming  at  once  to  the  second 
century,  which  I  have  already  described  as  the  age  of 
Apologetic ,  and  of  the  polemic  against  Gnosticism.  It  will 
be  found  that  there  is  a  deeper  identity  between  these 
forms  of  conflict  than  at  first  sight  meets  the  eye.  In 
both  Christianity  is  fighting  for  its  very  existence.  In 
both  also  it  is  driven  back  in  its  defence  on  the  vindica¬ 
tion  of  the  ideas  that  lie  at  the  basis  alike  of  natural 
and  of  revealed  religion.  I  propose  to  show  in  this 
lecture  how  that  conflict  was  waged,  and  to  illustrate 


36 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


its  typical  character,  and  the  abiding  value  of  its  results 
for  theology. 

I.  The  rise  of  a  written  apology  in  the  second 
century  is  intimately  connected  with  the  characteristics 
of  the  age  in  which  it  had  its  birth.  It  was  an  age  of 
preaching,  teaching,  lecturing,  declaiming  beyond  all 
precedent.  The  foundations  of  the  new  order  were 
laid  in  the  previous  century  by  the  Emperor  Vespasian, 
who,  though  himself  anything  but  literary,  conceived 
the  idea  of  bringing  about  an  alliance  between  the 
philosophers  and  the  State,  and  instituted  a  salaried 
hierarchy  of  teachers  in  Rome  and  the  provincial  cities.1 
The  seed^thus  sown  came  to  its  fruitage  in  the  age  of 
the  Antonines.  Renan  happily  hits  off  the  reign  of 
Marcus  Aurelius  in  calling  it  “  The  Reign  of  the 
Philosophers.” 2  In  this  reign,  once  in  the  world’s 
history,  Plato’s  dream  was  well-nigh  realised  ;  the 
State  had  a  philosopher  for  its  ruler,  and  philosophers 
monopolised  nearly  all  the  places  of  power.  It  was 
inevitable  that,  appearing  in  such  an  age,  apology 
should  run  into  literary  and  philosophic  form — should 
wear,  what  it  has  in  Justin,  and  most  of  the  other 
apologists,  the  garb  of  a  “  new  philosophy.” 3  The 
significant  thing  is  that  it  should  appear  at  all.  “  It 
shows,”  as  I  have  said  elsewhere,  “  not  only  that  the 
spirit  of  the  age  had  affected  Christianity,  but  also  that 
Christianity  had  pushed  its  way  into  literary  circles, 
and  was  attracting  their  attention.  It  makes  clear  that 
the  Christians  were  beginning  to  have  confidence  in 
themselves,  were  no  longer  content  to  be  ‘  a  dumb  folk 
muttering  in  corners,’  as  their  enemies  scornfully  de- 


1  Merivale,  Romans  Under  the  Empire,  chaps,  lx.,  lxvi, 

2  Marc  Aurele,  chap.  iii. 

3  Justin,  Dial,  u'ith  Trypho ,  8. 


RANGE  OF  APOLOGETIC  LITERATURE 


37 


scribed  them,  but  were  emboldened  to  present  their 
case  in  the  open  court  of  public  opinion,  and  to 
challenge  a  verdict  in  their  favour  on  the  ground  of  its 
inherent  reasonableness/’ 1 

The  bulk  and  range  of  the  apologetic  literature 
which  comes  down  to  us  from  this  period  awaken  our 
admiration  and  surprise.  Most  of  the  writers  are  men 
of  learning  and  culture  ;  not  a  few  are  philosophers  and 
rhetoricians  by  profession.  The  earliest  are  Quadratus 
and  Aristides2  in  the  reign  of  Hadrian.  Justin  Martyr 
is  the  centre  of  a  distinguished  group  in  the  age  of  the 
Antonines.  Among  them  are  included  Tatian,3  Justin’s 
own  disciple,  Athenagoras,  Theophilus  of  Antioch, 
Melito  of  Sardis,  with  Minucius  Felix,  founder  of  Latin 
Apology,  whose  dialogue  Octavius  Renan  styles  “  the 
pearl  of  the  apologetic  literature  of  the  reign  of  Marcus 
Aurelius.” 4  Tertullian,  in  the  close  of  the  century, 
brings  up  the  rear.  Origen  might  legitimately  be 
included  in  our  list,  for,  though  he  belongs  to  the  next 
century,  his  great  classic  is  a  reply  to  Celsus  in  this. 
The  works  of  these  writers  represent  a  wide  area. 
There  are  two  or  three  from  Athens ;  several  are 
from  Rome ;  two  are  from  Asia  Minor ;  one  is  from 
Syria ;  one  is  from  Pella,  in  Macedonia.  No  fewer 
than  seven  of  the  apologies  are  addressed  to  emperors ; 
some,  as  those  of  Theophilus  and  Minucius  Felix,  are 
directed  to  individuals  ;  others  are  general,  as  Tatian 
To  the  Greeks.  It  is,  moreover,  a  noble  and  elevated 

1  Neglected  Factors  in  the  Study  of  the  Early  Progress  of  Christianity , 

pp.  184-194. 

2  The  apology  of  Aristides  has  recently  been  recovered.  On  the  strength 
of  a  Syriac  title  some  place  it  in  the  next  reign. 

3  Better  known  as  the  author  of  the  Diatessaron ,  or  Harmony  of  the 
Gospels,  likewise  recently  discovered. 

4  Marc  Aurele ,  chap.  xxii. 


38  THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 

spirit  which  breathes  in  most  of  them  :  the  tone  of  men 
in  whom  already  stirs  the  consciousness  of  coming 
victory.  What  fine  dignity,  for  example,  marks  the 
exordium  of  Justin’s  first  apology:  “To  the  Emperor 
Antoninus  Pius,  and  to  his  son  Verissimus  (Marcus 
Aurelius),  the  philosopher,  and  to  Lucius,  the  philo¬ 
sopher,  the  adopted  son  of  Pius,  and  to  the  sacred 
Senate,  with  the  whole  people  of  the  Romans,  I,  Justin, 
the  son  of  Priscus  and  grandson  of  Bacchius,  native  of 
Flavia  Neapolis,  in  Palestine,  present  this  address  and 
petition  on  behalf  of  those  of  all  nations  who  are 
unjustly  hated  and  wantonly  abused,  myself  being  one 
of  the  number.”  “  For,”  he  goes  on,  “  we  have  come, 
not  to  flatter  you  by  this  writing,  nor  please  you  by 
our  address,  but  to  beg  that  you  pass  judgment  after 
an  accurate  and  searching  examination,  not  flattered 
by  prejudice,  or  by  a  desire  of  pleasing  superstitious 
men,  nor  induced  by  irrational  impulse  or  evil  rumours 
which  have  long  been  prevalent,  to  give  a  decision 
which  will  be  against  yourselves.  For  us,  we  reckon 
that  no  evil  can  be  done  us,  unless  we  be  convicted  as 
evil-doers,  or  be  proved  to  be  wicked  men  ;  and  you, 
you  can  kill,  but  not  hurt  us.”  This  was  a  new  way  of 
addressing  emperors.  No  sycophancy  or  subserviency 
here  ;  but  noble,  fearless,  yet  dignified  utterance  ;  the 
language  of  a  man  who  pleads  for  truth  rather  than  for 
safety :  the  tone  which  befitted  a  true  freeman  of 
Christ ! 

It  is  a  truism  to  say  that  every  age  calls  for  an 
apologetic  suited  to  itself.  By  a  not  unnatural 
illusion,  we  are  apt  to  think  that  the  demands  on  the 
apologist  in  the  nineteenth  century  are  more  severe 
and  testing  than  in  any  previous  time.  I  am  far  from 
sure  that  this  opinion  is  correct.  The  character  of  the 


DIFFICULTY  OF  APOLOGETIC  TASK 


39 


assault  has  altered  ;  the  conditions  of  the  defence  are 
different ;  but  I  should  greatly  question  whether  the 
Christian  Church  has  a  heavier  task  imposed  on  it  to¬ 
day  than  had  the  Church  of  the  second  century.  A 
little  reflection  will  show  us  that  it  was  a  very  complex 
apologetic  indeed  which  the  Church  of  that  time  had  to 
undertake  ;  and,  if  we  fairly  consider  it,  our  feeling,  I 
think,  will  be  one  of  admiration  that,  with  all  its  draw¬ 
backs,  it  accomplished  its  task  so  well.  It  is  easy,  no 
doubt,  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  work  of  the  men  by  the 
help  of  whose  shoulders  we  have  mounted  to  the  height 
we  now  occupy  ;  who  were  the  pioneers  in  their  several 
departments.  Justin’s  work,  eg.,  is,  we  may  admit, 
defective  in  many  ways.  It  is  unsystematic,  desultory, 
uncritical.  His  exegesis  is  often  fanciful ;  his  use  of 
allegory  is  excessive.  He  founds  arguments  on  the 
Greek  text  which  the  Hebrew  will  not  sustain.  But 
even  such  criticisms  may  be  carried  too  far.  Justin’s 
apology  would  not  do  for  us  ;  but  I  venture  to  think 
that,  with  all  their  faults,  his  books  contain  a  mass  of 
reasoning,  parts  of  which  are  even  yet  not  antiquated. 
Those  who  depreciate  his  originality  should  remember 
how  little  had  yet  been  done  in  the  way  of  either 
apologetic  or  theology.  Many  of  his  arguments  are 
trite  only  because  they  are  now  familiar.  It  seems  to 
me  that  Justin  blocks  out  his  argument,  taking  it  as  a 
whole,  with  considerable  skill  ;  and  that  many  of  his 
thoughts — that,  eg. ,  of  the  spermatic  Word — are  both 
original  and  profound.  We  shall  do  greater  justice  to 
the  complexity  and  difficulty  of  this  second  century 
apologetic  if  we  reflect  on  the  double  conflict  the  Church 
of  that  age  had  to  sustain.  It  had  to  defend  itself  as 
a  proscribed  body  against  the  outward  attacks  made  on 
it  in  the  name  of  the  laws,  and  this  at  a  time  when  its 
numbers  were  small,  its  prestige  was  nil ,  and  the  cloud  of 


40 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


odium  and  calumny  that  enveloped  it  seemed  well-nigh 
impenetrable  ;  and  it  had  to  defend  itself  against  the 
keen  and  unscrupulous  literary  attacks  of  opponents 
like  Fronto,  Celsus,  and  Lucian,  who  fought  it  with 
intellectual  weapons.  In  what  follows  it  will  be  con¬ 
venient  to  glance  at  the  literary  attack  first ;  then  to 
look  at  the  apology  by  which  this  and  other  assaults 
were  met,  as  it  shaped  itself  under  the  actual  conditions 
of  its  environment. 

We  find,  then,  what  the  literary  conditions  of  the 
age  might  lead  us  to  expect,  that  the  rise  of  apology 
had  for  its  counterpart  written  attacks  on  the  Christian 
religion.  We  shall  err  exceedingly  if  we  underrate 
either  the  keenness  or  the  intellectual  ability  of  these 
attacks.  Celsus  (c.  160  A.D.)  is  here  the  classical 
representative. 1  Baur  does  not  speak  too  strongly 
when  he  says  :  “  In  acuteness,  in  dialectical  aptitude, 
in  many-sided  culture,  at  once  philosophical  and  general, 
Celsus  stands  behind  no  opponent  of  Christianity.” 2 
With  him  begins  what  may  be  called  the  formal  literary 
assault  on  Christianity,  that  assault  prolonged  through 
so  many  centuries,  and  revived  with  new  vigour  in  our 
own  day.  His  True  Word  (X070?  d\r)6ri 9),  in  which 
he  assails  the  Christian  faith,  is  known  to  us  only 
through  the  extracts  from  it  in  Origen,  but  these  are 
so  copious,  and  are  so  often  given  in  Celsus’s  own 
words,  that  it  is  possible  to  reconstruct  the  greater  part 
of  the  work,  as  has  been  done,  in  fact,  by  Keim.  The 
plan,  in  particular,  is  easily  made  out.  With  consider¬ 
able  ingenuity  Celsus  brings  forward  first  a  Jew,  whose 
task  it  is  to  advance  against  Christianity  all  the  objec¬ 
tions  and  calumnies  that  can  be  raked  together  from 


1  Cf.  Neglected  Factors ,  etc.,  pp.  192-94. 

2  Church  History  of  First  Three  Centuries ,  ii.  p.  141  (E.T. ). 


THE  “  TRUE  WORD »  OF  CELS  US 


4i 


the  point  of  view  of  the  synagogue.  This  done,  the 
Jew  is  dismissed,  and  Celsus  conducts  the  argument  in 
his  own  person.  We  now  have  the  subject  looked  at 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  true  philosophy.  Jew  and 
Christian  are  good  enough  to  play  off  against  each 
other,  but  in  the  eyes  of  the  wise  man  of  heathenism 
their  positions  are  equally  absurd.  The  view  of  the 
world  on  which  Celsus  proceeds  is  in  some  respects 
different  from  the  modern  one  ;  in  others,  it  has  a 
surprisingly  modern  look.  It  is  one  which  excludes 
beforehand  all  revelation,  incarnation,  and  miracle. 
The  world  is  bound  in  an  iron  band  of  necessity,  and 
its  course  cannot  be  altered.  In  such  a  system,  as 
Origen  says,  “  free  will  is  annihilated.”  1  Matter  is  the 
source  of  evil,  and  the  quantity  of  evil  is  fixed  and 
unalterable.2  With  this  conception  Celsus  turns  on 
Christianity,  and  everything  in  it  is  necessarily  an 
offence  to  him.  Scarcely  anything  in  the  way  of  cavil 
has  escaped  him.  The  objections  of  later  critics  of 
the  Gospels — of  the  Deists,  of  Voltaire,  of  Strauss — 
are  with  marvellous  completeness  anticipated  here.  But 
it  is  on  the  doctrine  of  Redemption  that  he  pours  the 
vials  of  his  fullest  scorn.  Redemption  was  to  Celsus 
an  incredibility,  because  he  regarded  it  as  an  impossi¬ 
bility.  If  the  sum  of  evils  is  a  fixed  quantity,  it  is 
clearly  beyond  any  one’s  power  to  do  aught  to  diminish 
it.  A  change  from  bad  to  good  in  human  nature  he 
thought  barely  conceivable.3  Pardon  of  sin  could 
have  no  place  in  his  system.  That  the  world  was 
created,  or  is  governed,  for  man’s  benefit  is  to  him  the 
most  ridiculous  of  ideas.  To  strike  at  the  Gospel  he 
does  not  hesitate  to  degrade  man  in  the  scale  of 
creation  below  the  rank  of  the  brutes.4  It  is  peculiarly 

1  Origen,  Against  Celsus ,  iv.  67.  2  iv.  62.  3  iii.  67-69. 

4  iv.  23-25,  78,  79. 


42 


THE  PROGRESS  OE  DOGMA 


an  offence  to  him  that  Christianity  is  a  religion  for 
sinners.  The  proclamation  in  the  Mysteries  is  to  those 
who  are  of  pure  heart  and  upright  life ;  but  the  Gospel 
invites  the  wicked,  the  worthless,  and  the  vile.1  I  need 
not  pursue  his  attack  into  greater  detail  ;  but,  relatively 
to  his  own  age,  it  may  be  safely  said  that  it  was  as 
formidable  and  effective  a  piece  of  criticism  as  any  that 
comes  from  the  heavy  artillery  of  unbelief  to-day. 

Yet  the  singular  thing  is  that,  so  far  as  is  known  to 
us,  this  work  of  Celsus  fell  utterly  flat  in  his  own  day. 
We  do  not  even  hear  of  its  existence  till  eighty  or 
ninety  years  later,  when  Origen,  at  the  instance  of  a 
friend,  undertakes  a  refutation  of  it.  It  had  in  any 
case  no  effect  in  stopping  the  triumphant  march  of 
Christianity  to  victory  in  the  empire.  Why  was  this  ? 
Why  did  so  clever  a  book,  written  by  so  clever  a  man 
— a  book  which  already  exhausted  the  main  objections 
to  Christianity  as  these  have  always  been  presented — 
fail  ?  I  cannot  here  even  attempt  to  sketch  the  line  of 
Origen’s  magnificent  reply,  but  there  are  a  few  reasons 
that  lie  on  the  surface  which  bring  out,  I  think,  at 
least  the  main  causes  of  its  failure,  and  for  that  very 
reason  are  instructive.  One  reason,  it  may  be  con¬ 
fidently  affirmed,  was  the  obvious  unfairness  of  the 
book.  Celsus  did  not  even  attempt  to  be  fair.  He 
set  himself  studiously  to  twist,  ridicule,  misrepresent, 
to  put  the  worst  possible  construction  upon  everything. 
This  might  amuse  pagans,  but  could  produce  no  effect 
on  Christians,  or  on  those  who  saw  how  Christians 
lived.  These  needed  no  argument  to  refute  Celsus. 
Believers  knew  from  their  own  experience  that  he  did 
not  speak  the  truth  ;  did  not  do  justice  to  their  books, 
their  religion,  their  morality,  their  lives.  Akin  to  this, 

1  Origen,  Against  Celstis,  iii.  59. 


REASONS  OF  THE  FAILURE  OF  CELS  US 


43 


as  a  second  reason,  was  the  strange  blindness  in  the 
book  to  the  moral  and  spiritual  grandeur  of  Christianity. 
Celsus  saw  nothing  of  this,  or,  if  he  did,  would  not 
acknowledge  it.  But  every  one  else  was  not  so  blind, 
and  when  the  truth  in  Jesus  was  set  before  men,  they 
beheld  its  spiritual  glory,  and  felt  its  saving  power.  In 
presence  of  that  vision  the  objections  of  Celsus  vanished 
like  spectres  before  the  dawn.  A  third  reason  of 
failure  was  the  inadequacy  of  the  explanations  Celsus 
had  to  offer  of  Christianity.  This  is  the  test  which  all 
systems  of  unbelief  have  to  encounter.  It  is  not 
enough  that  Christianity  be  refuted  :  it  must  be  ex¬ 
plained,  and  Celsus  had  no  satisfactory  explanation  to 
offer.  Driven  to  an  issue,  he  has  no  better  hypothesis 
to  suggest  than  imposture  on  the  part  of  Jesus  and 
His  disciples.  But  the  human  conscience  will  never 
reconcile  itself  to  this  as  an  adequate  explanation  of  a 
system  like  Christianity.  It  recoils  from  it,  and  till  un¬ 
belief  can  get  rid  of  this  idea,  and  in  coarser  or  subtler 
forms  it  has  never  succeeded  in  doing  so,  it  will  not 
carry  general  assent.  A  fourth  reason  of  the  failure  of 
the  book  was  the  strange  perversity  with  which  Celsus 
turned  the  things  which  are  the  glory  of  Christianity 
into  an  argument  against  it.  This  applies  to  its  invita¬ 
tions  to  the  poor,  the  ignorant,  and  the  sinful,  which 
to  Celsus  were  such  a  “  rock  of  offence.”  A  last  reason 
that  may  be  given  was  that  Celsus,  in  rejecting  Chris¬ 
tianity,  had  no  substitute  to  offer.  His  view  of  the 
world  was  not  one  which  would  stand  in  the  light 
either  of  reason,  or  of  the  heart’s  needs,  before  the 
Christian  one.  Men  felt  that  in  the  doctrine  of  a 
Father-God  who  loved  them,  and  had  sent  His  Son  to 
save  them,  and  called  them  to  be  His  children,  they 
had  something  which  the  cold  rationalism  and  cheer¬ 
less  fatalism  of  Celsus  could  not  give  them.  His  spirit 


44 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


would  not  attract  them  where  Christianity  failed.  Thus 
his  argument  broke  down,  and  the  Gospel  went  on  its 
way  unharmed.  The  case  is  a  typical  one.  The  same 
causes  that  explain  the  defeat  of  Celsus  give  the 
reason  why  the  story  of  the  Cross  finds  its  weekly 
entrance  into  myriads  of  hearts,  while  the  learned 
tomes  which  were  to  grind  the  Christian  religion  into 
powder  lie  on  the  shelves  unread. 

This  brings  me  now  to  speak  of  the  task  of  the 
Christian  Apology  itself.  I  have  said  that  if  we  fairly 
consider  the  magnitude  and  difficulty  of  this  task,  the 
feeling  in  our  minds  will  be  one  of  admiration  at  the 
ability  with  which  it  was  accomplished.  We  shall 
best  understand  the  shape  it  assumed  if  we  look  at  it  in 
the  light  of  its  threefold  aim,  as  Defensive ,  Aggressive , 
and  Positive. 

In  the  first  place,  Christianity  had  to  vindicate  its 
right  to  exist,  to  clear  itself  from  the  calumnies  and 
aspersions  that  were  ignorantly  or  maliciously  heaped 
upon  it.  This  was  its  Defensive  task.  It  had  to 
undertake  this  task  in  relation  to  both  Jews  and  Gen¬ 
tiles.  It  had  to  encounter  and  refute  the  slanders  and 
misrepresentations  of  the  ancient  people,  their  per¬ 
versions  of  Gospel  facts,  and  denial  of  the  Messiahship 
of  Jesus.  It  had  a  yet  more  difficult  task  in  relation 
to  the  Gentiles.  Here  Christianity  stood  outside  the 
protection  of  the  laws,  and,  as  a  religion  proscribed  and 
persecuted,  had  to  plead  for  bare  toleration,  for  the 
mere  right  to  be.  It  had  to  show  cause  why  the 
enactments  against  it  should  be  removed,  and  it 
should  be  admitted  to  full  legal  recognition.  In  doing 
this,  it  had  to  encounter,  as  I  before  hinted,  a  mass  of 
superstition,  odium,  prejudice,  ignorance,  of  the  density 
of  which  we  can  now  form  little  conception.  It  raised 


THREEFOLD  AIM  OF  APOLOGY 


45 


its  voice  for  justice  with  the  whole  might  of  the 
Roman  State  against  it.  This  first  part  of  its  apolo¬ 
getic  work  it  will  be  admitted  that  the  early  Church 
accomplished  nobly  and  successfully.  The  vindication 
of  the  Christian  faith  from  the  calumnious  charges 
brought  against  its  adherents  occupies  a  large  space  in 
all  the  Apologies  (Justin,  Tertullian,  etc.).  The  accusa¬ 
tions  are  met  by  pointing  to  the  absence  of  evidence  in 
support  of  the  charges  ;  by  showing  the  inconsistency 
of  the  conduct  alleged  with  the  spirit  and  precepts  of 
the  Gospel ;  above  all,  by  appeal  to  the  public  testi¬ 
mony  of  the  characters  and  lives  of  Christians,  which 
presented  so  marked  a  contrast  to  the  heathen  debase¬ 
ment  around  them. 

The  second  part  of  the  Christian  Apology  was 
Aggressive,  and  here  its  relation  to  Judaism  necessarily 
differed  from  its  relation  to  heathenism.  The  Christians 
acknowledged  the  reality  of  the  Old  Testament  revela¬ 
tion.  They  had  therefore,  to  a  certain  extent,  common 
ground  with  the  Jews,  and  it  was  on  this  common 
ground  that  the  argument  proceeded.  What  they  had 
to  show  the  Jew  was  that  the  Mosaic  Law,  the  divine 
origin  of  which  was  admitted,  was  in  its  nature 
temporary ;  that  there  had  been  an  earlier  dispensation 
when  the  Fathers  did  not  observe  the  law  ;  and  that 
their  own  Scriptures  predicted  a  time  when  God  would 
make  a  new  covenant  with  His  people,  and  bring  in  a 
more  spiritual  system.  This  laid  on  the  apologist  the 
task  of  distinguishing  between  the  temporary  and 
eternal  elements  in  the  law ;  of  demonstrating  its 
typical  and  shadowy  character  ;  of  proving  the  Messiah- 
ship  of  Jesus— -all  points  requiring  delicate  and  careful 
handling,  and  in  dealing  with  which  we  need  not 
wonder  if  the  defenders  of  Christianity  occasionally 
stumbled.  In  relation  to  Paganism,  the  first  attitude 


46 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


of  the  apologist  was  necessarily  polemical.  He  must 
clear  the  ground  of  existing  errors  to  gain  a  hearing  for 
his  own  side.  All  the  apologists,  accordingly,  devote 
a  good  deal  of  attention  to  the  exposure  of  the  folly 
and  absurdity  of  idolatry,  and  of  the  puerile  and 
immoral  character  of  the  pagan  mythology.  In  this 
they  got  abundant  help  from  the  heathen  poets  and 
philosophers  themselves.  No  true  apology,  however, 
can  ever  be  entirely  negative.  The  Christian  writers, 
therefore,  did  not  content  themselves  with  simply 
assailing  the  popular  religions,  but  put  forward  in  their 
stead  the  great  truths  of  natural  religion.  They 
proclaimed  with  a  clearness  and  assurance  in  striking 
contrast  with  the  vacillation  of  the  schools  the  great 
doctrines  of  the  unity  of  God,  of  His  universal  provi¬ 
dence,  of  His  moral  government,  of  the  future  life,  of 
a  judgment  to  come.  For  many  of  these  doctrines 
they  could  again  adduce  the  testimony  of  heathen 
writers  ;  but  here  a  marked  difference  appears  in  the 
ranks  of  the  apologists  themselves.  One  school 
— of  which  Tatian,  Theophilus,  Tertullian,1  may  be 
regarded  as  types — took  up  a  strongly  hostile  attitude 
to  heathen  philosophy  and  learning.  Their  work  was 
done  when  they  had  shown  the  errors,  contradictions, 
absurdities,  into  which  heathen  writers  had  fallen. 
Another  and  nobler  school — best  represented  by  Justin 
and  Origen — took  a  more  liberal  view  of  their  relation 
to  philosophy,  and  gladly  availed  themselves  of  any 
rays  of  truth  in  the  heathen  wisdom.  They  recognised 
as  clearly  as  the  others  how  inadequate  was  the 
guidance  of  reason,  and  did  not  fail  to  show  the  con¬ 
flicting  and  confused  nature  of  the  opinions  of  the 

1  But  Tertullian  knew  how  to  avail  himself  of  the  philosophers  when  it 
suited  him.  What  was  true  in  their  teaching  this  school  supposed  to  be 
borrowed  from  Moses  and  the  prophets. 


THREEFOLD  AIM  OF  APOLOGY 


47 


ancient  pagans.  But  their  relation  to  heathen  learning 
did  not  exhaust  itself  in  this  negative  attitude.  With 
Paul  they  did  not  spurn  the  argument,  “  As  certain  of 
your  own  poets  have  said.” 1  Here  comes  in  the 
doctrine  of  Justin,  already  adverted  to,  of  the  spermatic 
Word.  All  men,  he  holds,  have  in  them  a  portion  of 
the  divine  Word.  “Whatever  things,”  therefore,  he 
boldly  claims,  “  were  rightly  said  among  all  men  are 
the  property  of  us  Christians.” 2  Sages  and  law¬ 
givers  had  a  portion  of  this  Word  ;  in  Christ  we  possess 
the  whole  Word.  Christ,  therefore,  furnishes  the  canon 
by  which  to  distinguish  the  true  from  the  false  in  the 
teaching  of  antiquity. 

But,  finally,  the  task  of  this  apologetic  was  also  a 
Positive  one — in  relation,  I  mean,  to  Christianity  itself. 
It  was  not  enough  that  the  rival  systems  of  idolatry 
should  be  overthrown,  or  even  that  the  truths  of 
natural  religion  should  be  established  in  their  place. 
The  positive  character  of  Christianity  as  a  revelation 
from  God  must  also  be  made  good.  The  apologists 
asserted  the  Divinity,  the  Messiahship,  the  supernatural 
birth,  the  resurrection,  the  heavenly  reign  of  Jesus,  and 
maintained  that  through  Him  a  new  and  final  revela¬ 
tion  had  been  given  by  God  to  men.  An  indispensable 
part  of  their  apologetic  work,  therefore,  was  to  establish 
the  reality  of  this  alleged  revelation,  and  here  the  lines 
of  evidence  chiefly  relied  on  were  the  following.  A 
main  place  was  always  given  to  the  argument  from 
prophecy ,  and  it  may  be  claimed  for  the  apologists  that 
their  handling  of  this  argument,  if  frequently  uncritical, 
was  yet  in  substance  sound.  The  passages  principally 
insisted  on  were  those  which  the  Church  has  always 

1  Acts  xviii.  28. 

2  Second  Apol.  13  ;  the  doctrine  of  the  spermatic  Word  is  chiefly 
found  in  First  Apol.  46  ;  Second  Apol.  8-13. 


48 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


regarded  as  Messianic  (e.g.y  Is.  liii.),  and  which  will 
probably  retain  that  character  despite  the  light  thrown 
by  criticism  on  their  historical  relations.  The  same 
stress  was  not  laid  on  miracles  as  in  later  times,  chiefly 
because  miracles  were  not  so  often  challenged  as 
ascribed  to  sorcery.  But  Ouadratus,  the  earliest 
apologist,  is  said  to  have  dwelt  on  the  Saviour’s 
miracles ; 1  and  Origen,  in  his  reply  to  Celsus,  well 
shows  that  it  is  not  the  miracle  as  a  mere  work  of 
power,  but  the  miracle  in  its  moral  character,  and  its 
relation  to  the  agent,  which  affords  the  proof  of  the 
divine.2  Appeal,  again,  is  repeatedly  made,  as  by 
Justin  and  Origen,  to  the  remarkable  spread  of 
Christianity  as  an  evidence  of  its  inherent  spiritual 
energy.  This  argument  had  peculiar  force  at  a  time 
when  every  violent  means  that  paganism  could  employ 
was  being  used  to  check  its  victorious  progress,  yet  it 
came  forth  triumphant  over  all.3  But  the  crowning 
argument  was  the  appeal  to  the  changed  characters  and 
lives  of  the  followers  of  Christ — the  moral  miracles 
wrought  by  the  Gospel  in  the  souls  of  men.  With  a 
changed  life  came  changed  relationships — a  new  ideal 
of  marriage,  purified  family  life,  a  new  conception  of 
social  duty,  new  works  of  love,  etc.  The  argument 
was  irresistible  that  a  religion  which  produced  such 
fruits  could  not  be  other  than  divine.4 

At  this  point,  however,  we  come  on  a  question 
of  considerable  importance  for  the  right  understanding 
of  the  apologists  and  their  work.  It  is  the  question 
raised  by  Professor  Harnack  and  those  who  think  with 

1  Eusebius,  iv.  3.  2  i.  68  ;  ii.  49-51. 

3  Cf.  Justin,  Dialogtie ,  177;  Tertullian,  Apology ,  i.  37;  Origen, 
Against  Celsus ,  i.  27  ;  ii.  13  ;  iii.  24  ;  viii.  26,  etc. 

4  This  appeal  runs  through  all  the  apologies.  Cf.  especially  Justin, 
Tertullian,  Origen  (i.  9,  26). 


HARNACKS  VIEW  OF  THE  APOLOGISTS 


49 


him,  as  to  how  far  the  apologists  we  are  studying  had 
any  proper  grasp  of  the  distinctive  nature  of  Christian¬ 
ity  at  all.  According  to  this  scholar,1  the  apologists 
have  all  but  completely  fallen  away  from  a  right 
apprehension  of  a  Christian  Gospel.  The  substance 
of  Christianity  for  them  lay  solely,  he  thinks,  in  its 
rational  content — in  its  doctrines  of  God,  of  virtue,  of 
a  future  life — and  the  only  value  of  the  objective  facts 
of  Christianity  (the  incarnation,  resurrection,  etc.)  is 
to  give  certification  and  assurance  of  these  truths. 
Christianity  is  a  system  of  natural  religion  with  super¬ 
natural  sanctions.  The  doctrines  which  I  have  called 
those  of  natural  religion — God,  immortality,  virtue — 
are  the  essence  of  the  matter,  all  else  is  the  machinery 
of  revelation  and  attestation.  As  I  cannot  acquiesce 
in  this  verdict,  at  least  without  very  considerable  modi¬ 
fication,  it  is  proper  that  I  should  give  one  or  two 
reasons  for  my  dissent. 

It  is  an  obvious  preliminary  consideration  that  the 
works  we  are  dealing  with  are  apologies ,  and  not 
doctrinal  treatises.  They  are,  that  is,  books  written 
with  a  perfectly  definite  end,  viz.,  to  refute  the 
calumnies  brought  against  the  Christians,  and  to 
vindicate  for  them  the  right  to  be  allowed  to  live 
quietly  and  peaceably  under  the  laws  in  obedience  to 
their  own  consciences.  Addressed  to  pagans  and 
idolaters,  they  naturally  adopted  the  lines  of  argument 
most  suitable  for  such  an  audience.  They  do  not 
enter  into  the  specialties  of  the  Christian  religion,  about 
which  the  pagans  knew  nothing  and  cared  less,  but 
keep  to  the  broad  truths  in  which  the  contrast  between 

1  Cf.  Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii.  7,  8,  169-230  (E.T.).  Harnack  here  follows 
von  Engelhardt.  Neither  can  carry  through  his  view  consistently,  and 
the  qualifications  both  are  compelled  to  make  go  far  to  neutralise  the 
original  thesis. 

E 


50 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


their  own  faith  and  that  of  the  established  idolatry  was 
most  palpable.  As  well  might  Paul  be  blamed  for 
confining  his  preaching  before  Felix  to  righteousness, 
temperance,  and  judgment  to  come,1  or  for  starting 
from  the  basis  of  natural  religion  in  his  address  to  the 
Athenians,2  as  these  apologists  for  not  discussing  the 
interior  doctrines  of  Christianity  before  persons  not  yet 
persuaded  of  the  elementary  truths  of  Theism.  Writers 
in  our  own  day  are  not  usually  found  debating  the 
mysteries  of  justification  or  regeneration  in  treatises 
intended  to  refute  the  agnosticism  of  Mr.  Huxley  or 
Mr.  Spencer. 

With  this  reservation,  it  may  be  freely  granted  that 
the  apologists  do  give  prominence  to  what  I  have  called 
the  fundamental  articles  of  religion,  and  with  united 
voice  endeavour  to  convince  their  opponents  of  the 
truth  and  reasonableness  of  these.  The  truths  they 
thus  declared  included  the  being,  unity,  and  spirituality 
of  God  ;  His  free  creation  of  the  world,  and  its  depend¬ 
ence  on  Him  for  continued  existence  ;  His  providence 
and  moral  administration  ;  the  reality  and  immutability 
of  moral  law  ;  the  certainty  of  a  day  of  judgment,  and 
of  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  punishments.  It  is 
evident  that  these  were  truths  which  it  was  necessary  to 
bring  forward  and  strongly  to  emphasise  in  the  face  of 
prevailing  idolatry,  of  Epicurean  atheism,  of  Stoical 
pantheism  and  fatalism,  of  the  denial  by  all  classes  of 
creation,  and  often  of  providence  as  well.3  It  would 
be  a  very  unsafe  inference  from  this,  however,  that  the 
apologists  knew  nothing  of  the  more  specific  Christian 
doctrines,  or  did  not  discuss  these  doctrines  among 
their  fellow-Christians.  Harnack  himselt  admits  this,4 

1  Acts  xxiv.  25.  2  Acts  xvii.  22  ff.  ;  cf.  xiv.  15- 1 7. 

3  Prof.  Harnack  allows  that  “this  was  the  very  thing  required” 
{Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii.  17 1  (E.T.)). 

4  “It  is,”  he  says,  “ intrinsically  probable  that  their  works,  directly 


THE  APOLOGISTS  AND  “ NATURAL  RELIGION ”  51 


though  it  seems  to  blunt  the  edge  of  much  of  his  own 
argument.  It  was  not  against  the  specific  doctrines  of 
the  Christians  that  objections  ordinarily  were  directed, 
but  against  their  non  -  compliance  with  established 
worship,  their  disuse  of  images,  temples,  etc.  When 
objections  were  made  against  the  special  doctrines,  as 
by  Celsus,  they  were  taken  up  and  answered.  But  even 
the  eight  books  of  Origen’s  reply  to  Celsus  would  give  us 
a  very  poor  idea  of  the' content  of  Origen’s  theology. 

A  further  fact  which  it  is  necessary  to  insist  on  is 
that  the  doctrines  mentioned  as  put  in  the  foreground 
by  the  apologists  are  very  real  parts  of  the  Christian 
system.  A  truth  does  not  cease  to  be  Christian 
because  it  is  also  in  accordance  with  reason,  though 
this  would  seem  to  be  the  presupposition  of  much  of 
the  criticism  of  the  apologists.  The  doctrines  of  the 
unity  of  God,  of  His  moral  government,  of  judgment  to 
come,  and  of  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  punishments, 
are  fundamental  parts  of  the  Bible  system,  and  as  such 
need  to  be  expounded,  defended,  and  enforced.  It  is 
true  also  that  these  doctrines  were  not  clearly  and 
firmly  grasped  by  the  heathen  world,  and  that 
Christianity  gave  new  distinctness  and  certitude  to 
them.  Why  then  should  the  apologists  not  give  them 
prominence  ?  These  are,  in  truth,  the  foundation 
doctrines  of  all,  and  until  they  are  acknowledged  no 
progress  can  be  made. 

addressed  to  the  Christian  Church,  gave  a  more  full  exposition  of  their 
Christianity  than  we  find  in  the  apologists.  This  can,  moreover,  be  proved 
with  certainty  from  the  fragments  of  Justin’s,  Tatian’s,  and  Melito’s 

esoteric  writings . If  we  compare  Tertullian’s  Apology  we  easily 

see  how  impossible  it  is  to  determine  from  that  work  the  extent  of  his 
Christian  faith  and  knowledge.  The  same  is  probably  the  case,  though 
to  a  less  extent,  with  Justin’s  apologetic  writings  ”  (Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii. 
pp.  169,  220).  One  must  take  into  account  also  the  doctrine  of  “  reserve  ” 
— the  so-called  disciplina  arcani — in  the  early  Church  (Origen,  Against 
Celsus ,  i.  7  ;  cf.  Newman’s  Arians ,  i.  sect.  3  ;  Hatch’s  Influence  of  Greeh 
Ideas,  etc.,  pp.  293-98). 


52 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


I  have  gone  thus  far  on  the  assumption  that  the 
apologists  do,  as  alleged,  contain  essentially  nothing 
more  than  a  rational  theology  and  cosmology — the 
Logos  doctrine,  on  this  view,  being  part  of  the  cosmology. 
I  would  now,  however,  go  a  step  farther,  and  contest 
the  justice  of  this  assumption .  Professor  Harnack  has 
afterwards  to  qualify  his  sweeping  judgment,  and 
acknowledge  that  in  the  case  of  Justin,  at  least,1  if  not 
of  others,2  a  good  many  elements  of  a  more  distinctive 
character  are  present.  But  the  admission  is  again  re¬ 
tracted,  and  Justin’s  doctrine  reduced  to  “  moralism,”  by 
explaining  that  in  Justin  Christ  appears  solely  as  a 
teacher  who  reveals  the  above-named  truths,  by  the 
knowledge  of  which  man  is  able  in  his  own  power  to 
attain  to  repentance  and  virtue,  and  so  make  himself 
worthy  of  eternal  life.  Christ  has  given  to  men  the 
perfect  law.  They  are  saved  by  obedience  to  it,  and 
need  no  help  beyond  right  instruction.3  One  would 
require  very  powerful  reasons  before  crediting  the 
author  of  the  Apologies  and  of  the  Dialogue  with  Trypho 
with  this  frigid  legalism — this  doctrine  of  salvation  by 
one’s  independent  efforts — which  is  an  utter  subversion 
of  grace,4  and  would  mean  a  relapse  into  the  worst  error 
of  Judaism.  But  I  cannot  agree  that  Justin  is  fairly 
chargeable  with  this  doctrine.  Justin’s  theology  has 
many  defects,  but  it  is  simply  not  the  case  that  he 
regards  Christ’s  incarnation,  life,  death,  and  resurrection, 
as  intended  only  to  give  confirmation  to  a  rational 
scheme  of  truth,  or  that  he  ignores  an  objective 
redemption.  His  teaching  has  many  positive  Christian 
elements.  With  the  other  apologists  he  did  much  to 
lay  the  foundations  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  He 

1  ii.  pp.  203,  220.  2  P.  169. 

3  ii.  pp.  221,  227  ;  cf.  pp.  216-20. 

4  “  If,  as  all  seems  to  show,  the  thought  of  a  specific  grace  of  God  in 
Christ  seems  virtually  neutralised,”  etc.  (ii.  p.  227). 


THE  CHRISTIANITY  OF  JUSTIN 


53 


is  explicit  on  the  incarnation.  He  recognises,  if 
inadequately,  the  weakening  of  the  powers  of  human 
nature  through  sin,  and  speaks  of  man  in  his  fallen 
state  as  the  child  of  necessity  and  ignorance.1  His 
writings  abound  in  statements  which  show  that  he 
attributed  a  redeeming  efficacy  to  the  death  of  Christ, 
and  that  not  simply  through  its  moral  effect,  but 
objectively,  and  in  itself.2  He  knows  of  the  call  to 
repentance  and  faith,  and  of  the  remission  of  sins  of 
God’s  free  grace,  as  the  result  of  obedience  to  that  call. 
Baptism  is  to  him  “  regeneration  ”  or  “  new  birth  ”  ; 
and  in  his  eucharistic  teaching  he  affirms  a  mystical 
incorporation  with  Christ.3  Even  the  doctrines 
formerly  alluded  to,  while  their  rational  character  is 
insisted  on,  are  not  set  forth  by  Justin  and  his  fellow- 
apologists  as  bare  truths  of  natural  religion,  but  are 
exhibited  as  truths  of  revelation,  and  are  bound  up  with 
definite  Christian  elements.  The  creation  of  the  world, 
e.g.,  is  connected  with  the  Logos  who  historically 
became  incarnate  in  Jesus  Christ ;  the  doctrine  of 
immortality  is  associated  with  the  resurrection,  and 
with  Christian  hopes  ;  there  is  a  judgment,  but  it  is 
Christ  who  is  judge,  etc.  What  may  legitimately  be 
said  in  criticism  of  the  apologists,  I  think,  is  : — i.  That 
the  philosophical  training  of  some  of  them,  blending 
with  the  habit  of  thought  of  the  age,  gave  a  predominat¬ 
ingly  philosophical  cast  to  their  writings,  and  led  them 
to  view  Christianity  rather  as  a  “  new  philosophy  ”  than 

1  First  Apol.  io,  61.  Man  is  affirmed  to  be  held  in  bondage  by  the 
wicked  demons,  “taking  as  their  ally  the  lust  of  wickedness  which  is  in 
every  man,  and  which  draws  variously  to  all  manner  of  vice.” 

2  E.g.,  Dial.  xiii.  94-96.  Von  Engelhardt  can  only  get  over  these 
passages  by  putting  a  forced  and  arbitrary  construction  on  expressions 
which  would  naturally  be  understood  otherwise. 

3  First  Apol.  61,  65,  66.  It  is  granted  that  “the  apologists  strove  to 
get  beyond  moralism  ”  (Harnack,  ii.  22 7).  There  is  no  sign  of  such 
“striving,”  and  why  should  they  strive  if  their  view  was  as  represented? 


i 


54 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


as  a  method  of  salvation  ;  and,  2.  That  then,  as  still, 
the  peculiar  business  of  the  apologist  tended  to  draw 
his  eyes  away  from  the  more  distinctive  doctrines  of 
Christianity  to  those  which  could  be  rationally  defended, 
and  in  this  way  did  injury  to  the  proportions  of  truth. 
But  it  is  only  in  a  relative  sense  this  can  be  affirmed  of 
them  ;  and  against  it  is  to  be  set  the  service  they 
rendered  in  uniting  Christianity  with  the  best  and  truest 
thinking  of  the  ancient  world  on  God,  the  soul,  virtue, 
and  the  life  to  come. 

From  a  review  of  the  whole,  I  think  it  will  be 
evident  that,  as  I  said  at  the  beginning,  we  have  no 
reason  to  be  ashamed  of  this  second  century  apologetic. 
It  had  a  difficult  task  to  perform,  and  it  did  it  well. 
It  was  not  a  shallow  and  meagre,  but  a  large  and 
complex  apologetic — dealing  with  many  antagonists, 
and  with  a  great  variety  of  sides  of  truth.  It  was  an 
apologetic,  too,  that  had  all  the  force  of  reality  about 
it.  Men  felt  they  were  engaged  in  an  earnest  and 
deadly  struggle,  and  had  no  time  for  mere  sword-play. 
They  wrote  with  a  purpose,  and  their  purpose  gave 
power  and  decision  to  their  pens.  The  Church  was 
grateful  to  them  then,  and  we  may  remember  them 
with  gratitude  to-day. 

II.  I  now  proceed  to  observe  that,  while  the  battle  I 
have  described  was  being  fought  by  the  apologists 
against  the  assaults  of  paganism  without ,  the  Church 
was  exposed  to  a  subtler  and-  far  more  deadly  peril, 
and  had  to  brace  itself  for  a  more  onerous  struggle 
within ,  in  its  controversy  with  what  is  known  as 
Gnosticism.  If  the  former — the  apologetic — contest 
represents  the  conflict  of  truth  with  error  on  its  rational 
and  ethical ,  the  struggle  with  Gnosticism  may  be  said 


THE  GNOSTICS  AS  “  THEOLOGIANS ” 


55 


to  represent  this  conflict  on  its  directly  religious  side  ;  for 
the  questions  in  the  Gnostic  contest  unquestionably  go 
deeper,  and  touch  Christianity  in  its  central  and  most 
vital  parts.  Here  we  come  to  closer  quarters  than  we 
have  yet  done  with  the  theory  of  the  Greek  origin  of 
dogma.  In  the  view  of  Prof.  Harnack,  the  Gnostics 
are  not  heretics  at  all  ;  they  are  raised  to  thrones  of 
honour  as  “  the  first  Christian  theologians.” 1  They 
only,  this  authority  thinks,  sought  to  bring  about  in  an 
acute  way  that  Hellenising  of  Christianity  which  the 
Church  afterwards  accomplished  by  a  more  gradual 
process.2  I  confess  I  feel  it  difficult  to  know  what  to 
make  of  the  theory  of  Christianity  involved  in  such  a 
dictum.  Prof.  Harnack  overlooks  that  there  is  theology 
and  theology.  There  is  a  theology  which  keeps  true 
to  the  basis  of  Christian  facts,  and  seeks  to  interpret 
them  to  knowledge  ;  and  there  is  a  theology,  the  centre 
of  gravity  of  which  lies  outside  of  Christianity  altogether, 
which  would  subvert  these  facts,  and  dissipate  Chris¬ 
tianity  into  a  cloudland  of  human  imaginations.  That 
the  triumph  of  Gnosticism,  notwithstanding  the  germs 
of  truth  in  some  of  the  higher  systems,  would  have 
meant  the  dissolution  of  historical  Christianity  and 
certain  ruin  of  the  Church,  is  granted  by  writers  of 
nearly  every  school.  “  The  crisis,”  says  the  late  Dr. 
Hatch,  “  was  one  the  gravity  of  which  it  would  be 
difficult  to  over-estimate.  There  have  been  crises 
since  in  the  history  of  Christianity,  but  there  is  none 
which  equals  in  its  importance  this,  upon  the  issue  of 
which  it  depended  for  all  time,  whether  Christianity 
should  be  regarded  as  a  body  of  revealed  doctrine,  or 
as  the  caput  mortuum  of  a  hundred  philosophies— 
whether  the  basis  of  Christianity  should  be  a  definite 
and  definitely  interpreted  creed,  or  a  chaos  of  specula- 
1  i.  pp.  227,  255  (E.T.).  2  i.  pp.  226,  22 7. 


56 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


tions.”1  How  that  which  would  have  been  the  destruction 
of  Christianity,  and  subversion  of  the  possibility  of  dogma, 
can  be  claimed  as  a  legitimate  stage  in  the  development 
of  dogma  within  Christianity  I  fail  to  apprehend. 


Gnosticism  is  one  of  the  most  singular  phenomena 
of  the  second  century,  or  of  any  age.  We  have  seen 
something  of  the  literary  character  of  that  century  in 
its  earlier  part.  But,  beyond  this,  the  age  was  one  of 
syncretism — of  the  clash  and  conflict  of  systems,  of  the 
meeting  and  commingling  of  streams  from  East  and 
West,  of  restless,  feverish  excitement  in  thought  and 
religion,  an  age  marked  by  a  great  welter  of  opinion  on 
all  subjects  human  and  divine.  The  air  was  sultry 
with  superstition,  yet  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion 
were  deep,  unsatisfied  religious  cravings,  and  a  strong 
desire  on  the  part  of  the  bolder  minds  to  grasp  the 
secret  of  existence,  which,  despite  Greek  philosophy 
and  Oriental  mysteries,  seemed  still  to  elude  them. 
Into  this  mass  of  conflicting  opinion  Christianity 
entered  as  a  powerful  ferment,  and  the  intensity  of 
the  ferment  can  best  be  measured  by  the  magnitude  of 
the  effects  which  it  produced.2  The  elements  of  the 
prevailing  systems  began  to  adjust  themselves  in  new 
relations  under  the  action  of  the  Christian  ideas : 
systems  of  the  strangest  and  most  bizarre  character 
grew  up,  and  multiplied  themselves  with  fungus-like 
rapidity  ; 3  finally,  vast  and  complicated  theories  were 

1  Organisation  of  the  Early  Christian  Churches ,  p.  96.  The  fluid 
character  of  Prof.  Harnack’s  thinking  is  strikingly  shown  in  his  easy 
grouping  of  Irenaeus  with  “  Paul,  Valentinus,  and  Marcion  ”  ;  his  ranking 
of  Marcion  and  the  Valentinians  as  “scriptural  theologians,”  and  his  state¬ 
ment  that  “Irenaeus  and  Hippolytus  merely  followed  them,”  etc.  Cf. 
Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii.  pp.  237,  250. 

2  Cf.  Neglected  Factors ,  etc.,  pp.  194-99. 

3  Irenaeus  compares  them  to  “mushrooms  growing  out  of  the 
ground  ”  (i.  29). 


GNOSTICISM  AND  RELIGIOUS  PHILOSOPHY  57 


formed,  which  aimed  at  being  at  once  a  philosophy  of 
God  and  of  the  universe,  a  divine  theodicy,  a  philosophy 
of  Jewish  and  Christian  revelation,  and  a  basis  of 
religious  practice.  Baur  has  truly  said  :  “  Gnosticism 
gives  the  clearest  proof  that  Christianity  had  now 
become  one  of  the  most  important  factors  in  the 
history  of  the  time  ;  and  it  shows  especially  what  a 
mighty  power  of  attraction  the  new  Christian  principles 
possessed  for  the  highest  intellectual  life  then  to  be 
found  either  in  the  pagan  or  in  the  Jewish  world.”1 

We  shall,  nevertheless,  utterly  miss  the  significance 
of  this  remarkable  phenomenon  if  we  regard  it  as  mere 
perversity — inexplicable  craze  and  hallucination.  Gnosti¬ 
cism  was,  in  its  own  way,  an  attempt  at  the  explanation 
of  things,  and  the  questions  it  dealt  with  were  such  as, 
for  the  most  part,  spring  out  of  the  nature  of  our 
intelligence,  and  cannot  but  impress  themselves  on  the 
thoughtful  mind.  Such  questions  were — the  relation 
of  infinite  and  finite,  the  explanation  of  the  evil  and 
imperfection  of  the  world,  the  meaning  of  this  groaning 
and  sighing  for  deliverance  which  is  through  all  things, 
the  nature  of  the  Christian  revelation,  its  relation  to 
past  stages  of  revelation  and  to  the  general  philosophy 
of  history,  the  manner  and  nature  of  redemption.  On 
all  these  questions  the  Gnostics  would  not  be  put  off 
with  commonplace  answers.  They  had  the  true 
aristocratic  contempt  for  the  answers  which  passed 
current  in  the  Church.  They  were  not  content  to  be 
told  that  God  created  the  world.  How  could  the 
infinite  produce  the  finite  ?  Whence  came  matter,  the 
very  antithesis,  as  they  conceived  it,  of  spirit  ?  It  was 
not  enough  to  tell  them  a  tale  of  the  serpent  tempting 
the  woman  in  Eden.  They  must  get  behind  that. 

1  Hist .  of  Church,  ii.  p.  1  (E.T. ). 


58 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Whence  this  evil  and  imperfection  which  seem  inherent 
in  the  very  nature  of  things  ?  It  was  not  enough  to 
say,  Christ  has  come  to  redeem  the  world.  What  is  it 
in  man  which  makes  him  capable  of  redemption  ?  How 
came  man  to  be  what  he  is,  and  what  is  the  explanation 
of  the  differences  that  prevail  among  men  in  respect  of 
gifts,  fortune,  position,  and  spiritual  capacity  ?  Whence 
this  yearning  of  the  soul,  which  seems  to  be  shared  by 
so  much  else  in  nature,  for  truth  and  blessedness  and 
freedom  ?  Admit  the  reality  of  revelation,  how  explain 
the  contrasts  between  the  old  revelation  and  the  new  ? 
And  how  is  the  whole  related  to  the  general  theory 
of  the  universe  ?  Such  are  the  problems — deep  and 
important  enough,  and  legitimate  enough  too,  if  only 
we  are  content  with  such  answers  as  are  possible,  and 
put  our  questions  with  proper  humility.  The  fault  of 
the  Gnostic  did  not  lie  in  his  questions,  but  in  his 
answers — in  the  unsoundness  of  his  methods,  and  the 
vain  conceits  of  his  own  fancy  which  he  put  in  place 
of  knowledge. 

Gnosticism,  then,  as  the  name  denotes,  professes  to 
give  “  knowledge,”  an  absolute  knowledge,  which  only 
the  higher  class  of  minds  could  appropriate.  The 
infinitely  varied  shapes  assumed  by  the  systems  render 
it  almost  impossible  to  classify  them,  or  even  to  give 
an  account  of  their  leading  ideas  which  shall  not  be 
open  to  objection.  We  might  as  well  attempt  to 
classify  the  products  of  a  tropical  jungle,  or  the  shapes 
and  hues  of  the  sunset  clouds,  which  change  under  our 
view  as  we  look  at  them.  There  are  the  early  and 
incipient  forms  of  Gnosticism,  with  their  roots  in  the 
apostolic  age,  of  which  Cerinthus  may  be  named  as  a 
representative  ;  there  are  the  inchoate  or  semi- dev  eloped 
systems,  of  which  the  Ophite  (so-called  from  the  role  of 


THE  GNOSTIC  SYSTEMS 


59 


the  serpent  in  the  mythology)  is  the  principal  group  ; 
finally,  there  are  the  fully- dev  eloped  systems,  those  of 
Basilides,  Valentinus,  and  Marcion,  with  their  respective 
schools.  These  last — at  least  the  systems  of  Basilides 
and  Valentinus,  for  Marcion  stands  apart — were  really, 
as  already  hinted,  great  religious  philosophies,  the  pro¬ 
totypes  of  those  absolutist  systems  which  have  sprung 
up  in  Germany  in  our  own  century,  and  profess  to 
explain  everything.  Basilides,  with  his  powerful  specula¬ 
tive  grasp  and  all-embracing  evolutionary  process,  might 
be  termed  the  Hegel  of  the  movement ;  Valentinus, 
with  his  robe  of  phantasy  and  triple  fall  and  redemption, 
was  its  Schelling  ;  Marcion,  with  his  severe  practical 
bent,  his  doctrine  of  faith,  and  his  antithesis  of  the  just 
God  and  the  good,  might,  without  straining,  be  named 
its  Ritschl.1  The  thing  which  chiefly  strikes  us  in 
these  systems  is  the  mythological  dress  in  which  con¬ 
ceptions  at  bottom  metaphysical  are  clothed.  It  is  not 
easy  to  say  how  far  this  belongs  to  the  essence  of  the 
thought,  or  is  a  poetic  or  allegorical  veil  consciously 
thrown  over  their  conceptions  by  the  inventors  of  the 
systems.  It  is  difficult  to  believe,  e.g.,  that  the  adventures 
of  the  mystic  Sophia  in  Valentinus  are  meant  to  be 
taken  as  literal  history,  and  not  rather  as  part  of  a  great 
divine  poem — the  symbolising  of  truths  or  ideas  which 
could  not  otherwise  be  so  well  expressed.  It  is  as  if 
the  categories,  say  of  the  Hegelian  logic,  were  translated 
into  the  language  of  emanation,  and  represented  as 
seons  evolved  one  from  the  other  in  series.2 

1  The  chief  authority  on  Basilides  is  Hippolytus,  on  Valentinus  is 
Irenaeus,  and  on  Marcion  is  Tertullian. 

2  Harnack  speaks  of  “  mythological  powers  translated  into  an  aggregate 
of  ideas  ”  (i.  p.  249).  We  are  disposed  to  regard  it  rather  as  a  system  of 
ideas  translated  into  the  language  of  mythology.  It  is  possible  to  over¬ 
rate,  but  Harnack,  I  think,  underrates  the  importance  of  the  vesture,  and 
regards  the  Gnostics  as  attaching  less  meaning  to  it  than  they  did  (i. 
PP*  233-235)* 


6o 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Absolutely  common  features  of  the  Gnostic  systems 
there  are  none ;  we  can  but  present  outstanding  or 
typical  features.  In  general,  God  is  conceived  of  as  an 
Unfathomable  Abyss  (fivOos;),  between  whom  and  the 
finite  creation  is  interposed  a  long  chain  of  seons  or 
powers,1  emanations  of  the  divine,  constituting  in  their 
totality  the  Pleroma  or  Fulness  of  the  divine  essence. 
The  world  is  not  a  creation  of  divine  power,  but  is  the 
result  of  a  rupture  or  fall  in  the  Pleroma.  In  some 
systems  matter  stood  alongside  of  God  as  an  inde¬ 
pendent  evil  power  ;  in  others  it  is  explained  as  a  result 
of  the  development,  or  is  derived  from  a  spiritual 
fall.  In  all  the  systems  a  distinction  is  made  between 
the  Demiurge,  framer  of  this  visible  creation  and  God 
of  the  Old  Testament,  and  the  Supreme  God  revealed 
in  the  fulness  of  time  in  Christ.  The  God  of  the  Old 
Testament  is  an  inferior  and  imperfect  Being — limited, 
passionate,  vengeful — while  the  God  of  Christ  is  identi¬ 
fied  with  the  primal  source  of  virtue,  goodness,  and 
truth.  Christ  Himself  is  either  a  celestial  Being,  an 
JEon,  who  appears  in  a  phantasmal  body  among  men 
for  their  redemption  (Docetism),  or  is  the  earthly  Jesus, 
with  whom  the  higher  power  temporarily  associates 
itself.  Men  are  distinguished  into  two  classes — spiritual 
and  psychical  ;  sometimes  into  three — spiritual  and 
hylic  (material),  with  the  psychical  (soulish)  as  an  inter¬ 
mediate  class.  The  spiritual  alone  are  capable  of  the 
higher  knowledge,  in  which  consists  salvation.  The 
practical  influence  of  the  system  was  twofold,  according 
as,  on  the  one  hand,  the  doctrine  of  the  evil  of  matter 
was  made  the  ground  of  ascetic  practice  ;  or  as,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  spirit  sought  to  show  its  superiority  to 
the  flesh  by  unrestrained  indulgence  in  licentiousness. 
The  system  of  Marcion  avoided  the  transcendentalism 

1  The  Basilidean  theory  had  originally  no  aeons. 


SERIOUSNESS  OF  THE  CRISIS 


61 


of  aeons,  but  opposed  the  God  of  the  Old  to  the  God 
of  the  New  Testament,  and  was  docetic  in  its  view  of 
Christ. 

Here,  then,  was  a  crisis  threatening  the  very  life  of 
the  Church,  which  called  for  the  most  strenuous  efforts 
of  the  ablest  minds  to  resist  it.  The  Gnostic  sects — 
some  of  them  rising  to  the  dignity  of  influential  schools 
— must  have  embraced  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  the 
total  membership  of  the  Church  of  the  time.  They 
honeycombed  the  Church  in  every  direction,  and  with 
their  alluring  speculations  drew  off  the  “  elite  ”  who 
wished  to  combine  philosophy  and  culture  with  their 
Christianity.  We  can  best  see  how  largely  Gnosticism 
bulked  in  the  Church  consciousness  of  the  period  by 
observing  the  space  which  it  occupies  in  the  literature 
of  the  period.  With  slight  exception,  heresy  to  the 
Fathers  of  the  close  of  the  second  and  beginning  of  the 
third  centuries  is  simply  Gnosticism.  “  The  whole  of 
Irenaeus,  a  great  part  of  Tertullian,  the  whole  of  Hip- 
polytus  nearly,  and  not  a  little  of  Clement  of  Alexandria, 
are  devoted  to  its  refutation.  This  does  not  take 
account  of  lost  treatises.”  1  But  the  work  which  these 
Fathers  undertook  was  effectually  done.  The  main 
body  of  the  Church  also  consistently  and  resolutely 
withstood  these  Gnostic  theorists.2  Next  to  the  fact  of 
its  rapid  rise,  accordingly,  the  most  remarkable  thing 
about  Gnosticism  is  its  short-lived  character.  It  had  a 
brilliant,  meteoric  course,  but  the  acute  crisis,  at  any 

1  Neglected  Factors ,  etc.,  p.  195.  The  other  heresies  combated  are 
principally  Ebionitism  and  the  nascent  Monarchianism  of  the  end  of  the 
second  century.  The  latter  belongs  properly  to  the  next  period. 

2  “For  Justin,”  says  Harnack,  “about  the  year  150,  the  Marcionites, 
Valentinians,  Basilideans,  and  Saturnians  are  groups  outside  the  com¬ 
munities,  and  undeserving  of  the  name  ‘Christians’”  (i.  p.  250  E.T.). 
In  Dialogue  80,  Justin  describes,  but  does  not  name,  these  parties. 


62 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


rate,  in  connection  with  it  soon  passed  away.  It  sprang 
up  towards  the  end  of  the  first  century  ;  had  reached 
its  height  about  the  middle  of  the  second  century  ;  was 
already  in  its  decadence,  though  still  a  force  to  be 
reckoned  with,  by  the  end  of  that  century ;  then  it 
vanished,  leaving  only  obscure  traces  of  itself  in  scattered 
sects.1  It  had  only  one  important  revival,  that  of 
Manichaeism  in  the  third  century,  if  that  appearance 
on  Persian  soil  can  be  so  described.  Gnosticism  was, 
in  fact,  the  product  of  a  peculiar  age,  and  of  a  peculiar 
set  of  conditions  in  that  age,  and  when  these  changed 
it  passed  away  like  an  unwholesome  dream.  We  can 
compare  it  to  nothing  so  much  as  to  an  exhalation  from 
a  marsh,  kindling  up  into  strange  and  variegated,  but 
illusive  lights,  will-o’-the-wisps  that  vanished  when  the 
morning  broke. 

A  movement  of  this  kind,  however,  could  not  come 
and  go  without  powerful  reactive  effects  on  the  Church 
itself,  and  lasting  gains  to  the  theological  development. 
Inevitably,  in  the  course  of  this  conflict,  the  Church  was 
driven  back  on  the  deepest  grounds  of  its  religious 
convictions,  and  compelled  to  formulate  and  defend  the 
ideas  which  lay  at  the  foundation  of  revealed,  nay,  of 
all  religion.  This  is  what  Professor  Harnack  calls  the 
“  Hellenising  ”  of  Christianity,  and  regards  as  on  the 
same  plane  with  the  efforts  of  the  Gnostics  themselves.'2 
In  his  view  the  Fathers  simply  fell  into  the  error  of 
their  opponents  in  availing  themselves  of  the  weapons 
of  the  Greek  philosophy,  and,  especially  through  their 
Logos  doctrine, gave  Christianity  an  intellectual  character 
which  differed  not  in  kind,  but  in  degree,  from  the 

1  A  church  of  the  Marcionites  lingered  on  for  a  considerable  time. 

2  Cf.  Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii.  pp.  247,  305,  321,  etc.  (E.T.).  Thus  also 
Kaftan  in  his  Truth  of  the  Christian  Religion. 


FATHERS  AIM  AT  “ CONSERVATION ” 


63 


Gnosticism  they  were  combating.  It  would  again  re¬ 
quire  strong  evidence  to  make  good  a  theory  intrinsically 
so  improbable  ;  and  that  evidence,  I  am  persuaded,  an 
unbiassed  study  of  the  facts  will  not  yield  us<  If  it  were 
true,  the  Fathers  themselves  must  have  been  strangely 
deceived,  for,  by  Professor  Harnack’s  own  admission,  to 
them  Greek  philosophy  was  the  parent  of  all  heresy.1 2 
The  chief  end  these  Fathers  of  the  old  Catholic  period 
had  in  view  was  conservation — the  preservation  of  the 
faith  as  they  had  received  it — and  the  last  thing  they 
thought  of  was  to  give  over  Christianity  to  philosophy, 
or  construct  a  new  Gnosticism  in  room  of  that  which 
they  combated/  If  in  fulfilment  of  their  task  they 
could  not  but  feel  impelled  to  set  over  against  the 
Gnostic  systems  —  which,  as  we  saw,  were  simply 
gorgeously  illuminated  philosophies  of  God,  man,  and 
the  universe — their  own  conception  of  what  may  be 
called  the  Christian  philosophy  of  the  world,  this  was 
in  the  line  of  sound  development,  and  does  not  imply  a 
departure  from  the  Christian  basis,  unless  in  so  far  as 
it  can  be  shown  that  Christianity  is  wrongly  interpreted. 
And  this  is  not  done  by  simply  alleging  against  it  the 
Logos  doctrine  ! 

It  was  an  unfortunate  necessity  of  its  position  in 
this  controversy,  that  the  Church  had  to  enter  into  con¬ 
flict  with  its  formidable  adversaries  destitute  of  most  of 
the  defences  it  afterwards  possessed  against  error — 
without  a  fixed  canon  of  Scripture,  without  a  generally 

1  Hist,  of  Dogma.)  ii.  p.  247. 

2  Dorner’s  estimate  of  the  period  is  very  different  from  Harnack’s. 
“  A  glorious  period,”  he  says,  “  when  Christian  faith  and  Christian  science 
flourished,  began  about  the  middle  of  the  second  century,  and  so  rich  a 
harvest  was  reaped,  for  the  latter  especially,  that  at  the  end  of  the  century 
hardly  any  one  could  wish  that  the  Church  might  have  escaped  the  Gnostic 
s  orms  ”  {Person  of  Christ)  i.  p.  254,  E.T. ). 


64 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


recognised  creed,  without  even  a  court  of  ecclesiastical 
appeal,  such  as  the  council  afterwards  became.  Every¬ 
thing  was  yet  to  make — at  least  to  define  ;  and  it  was 
precisely  one  of  the  gains  of  the  Gnostic  controversy 
that  it  compelled  the  Church  to  provide  itself  with 
these  means  of  defence,  and  erect  bulwarks  against  the 
inroads  of  unauthorised  speculation,  which  not  only 
served  the  immediate  end  of  safety,  but  were  of  abiding 
value.  In  this  region,  I  know,  many  things  are  still  in 
dispute,  but  competent  scholars  are  tolerably  agreed  as 
to  the  general  outcome. 1  Dr.  Hatch  is  justified  in 
attributing  to  Irenaeus  and  Tertullian  the  special 
credit  of  striking  out  the  conception  of  the  “Apostolic” 
as  that  which  was  to  guide  the  Church  at  this  crisis  ; 2 
but  it  is  not  less  important  to  observe  that,  in  laying 
stress  on  this  conception,  these  Fathers  do  not  claim  to 
be  introducing  anything  new,  but  only  to  be  expressing 
what  the  Church  had  always  recognised,  but  had  not 
before  the  same  occasion  explicitly  to  state. 

The  first  important  gain  to  the  Church  from  the  con¬ 
troversy  in  which  it  had  been  plunged,  was  the  collec¬ 
tion  of  a  body  of  New  Testament  Scriptures ,  or  the 
formation  of  a  New  Testament  canon.  It  is  not 
that  the  Church  did  not  know  itself  before  this  time 
possessed  of  inspired  and  authoritative  writings.3  The 

1  Cf.  Ritschl,  Enstehung  d.  alt. -Hath.  Kirche  (1857),  pp.  336  ff.  ; 
Dorner,  Person  of  Christ,  i.  pp.  257-58  (E.T. ) ;  Harnack,  Hist,  of  Dogma, 
ii.  pp.  18-93  (E.T.) ;  Hatch,  Organisation,  pp.  93-97.  In  conjunction 
with  the  resistance  to  Gnosticism,  resistance  to  the  powerful,  enthusiastic, 
and  schismatic  movement  of  the  middle  and  latter  part  of  the  second 
century  known  as  Montanism  gave  a  strong  impulse  to  the  changes  I 
describe.  See  below,  pp.  90,  125. 

2  Organisation ,  pp.  96,  123. 

3  This  against  Harnack.  The  use  of  the  N.  T.  writings  as  Scripture  by 
Irenseus  and  Tertullian  shows  quite  clearly  that  it  was  not  they  who 
created  that  idea,  but  that  the  writings  they  appeal  to  had  long  attained 
an  established  and  authoritative  position.  Of  the  twenty-four  columns  or 
so  of  references  to  Scripture  in  the  index  to  the  translation  of  Tertullian’s 


IDEA  OF  NEW  TESTAMENT  CANON 


65 


Gospels  in  particular  had  long  been  in  use  in  the 
churches,  and  collections  had  early  been  made  of 
Paul’s  Epistles.1  Such  collections,  however,  grew  up 
naturally,  informally,  with  a  view  to  purposes  of 
edification,  and  with  no  idea  consciously  present  of 
forming  what  we  mean  by  a  Canon  of  Scripture. 
We  have  only  to  recall  how  near  the  Church  of  the 
second  century  stood  to  the  Apostolic  Age,  and  what 
stress  was  still  laid  on  living  Apostolic  tradition,  to  see 
how  far  it  would  lie  from  men’s  minds  to  erect  these 
writings  of  Apostles  and  Apostolic  men  into  a  per¬ 
manent  rule  of  faith  and  practice  for  the  whole  Church. 
Now,  under  pressure  of  the  Gnostic  controversy,  when 
the  Church  was  faced  by  the  mutilated  Canon  of 
Marcion,2  and  saw  its  borders  overrun  by  pseudonymous 
and  apocryphal  productions,  it  was  inevitable  that  it 
should  be  impelled  to  set  about  in  right  earnest  mak¬ 
ing  a  collection  of  the  books  which  it  did  regard  as 
Apostolic  - —  which  it  knew  from  their  history  and 
long-established  use  to  be  so — and  that  these  should 
be  definitely  separated  from  the  floating  mass  and 
raised  to  a  position  of  exclusive  authority.  With  this 
went  the  other  motive  of  finding  in  these  Scriptures — • 
thus  collected  and  unified — a  basis  from  which  to  assail 
the  theories  of  its  opponents,  and  to  defend  the  Church 
doctrine  against  their  attacks.  To  this  end  it  was 
necessary  to  lay  stress  on  that  in  the  writings  which 
gave  them  their  authority  —  viz.,  their  Apostolic 
character,  or  origin  either  directly  from  Apostles  or 

work  against  Marcion,  fully  half  are  to  the  New  Testament.  On  the  con¬ 
troversy  between  Zahn  and  Harnack  on  this  point,  see  Studien  tmd 
Kritiken  for  1891. 

1  Besides  2  Pet.  iii.  17,  see  the  free  quotations  from  these  epistles  by 
Polycarp  and  others. 

2  Marcion  accepted  only  one  Gospel,  viz.,  Luke’s,  and  that  in  a  muti¬ 
lated  form,  and  ten  Epistles  of  Paul.  The  word  “Canon”  is  used  here 
anticipatively, 

F 


66 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


from  men  belonging  to  the  first  Apostolic  circles,  and 
having  Apostolic  sanction  for  their  work.  Thus  grew 
up  towards  the  end  of  the  second  century  the  definite 
conception  of  a  collection  of  New  Testament  Scriptures 
— of  a  New  Testament ,  as  it  now  begins  to  be  called — 
which  henceforth  takes  its  place  beside  the  Old  Testa¬ 
ment  as  of  equal  validity  and  authority  with  it.  Lists 
are  drawn  up  of  the  sacred  books,  and  the  Church 
Fathers  of  the  period  show  the  clearest  consciousness 
of  dealing  with  a  code  of  writings  of  Apostolic  origin, 
inspired  character,  and  normative  authority. 

It  was  soon  apparent,  however,  that  the  mere  fixing 
of  the  Canon  of  Scripture  was  not  enough.  There 
arose  next  the  question  of  the  interpretation  of 
Scripture  when  men  had  it.  The  Gnostics  were  not 
to  be  silenced  by  simple  appeal  to  a  book.  They 
did  not  always  admit  the  authority  of  Scripture  ; 
but  even  when  they  did,  they  had  their  own  ways 
of  eliciting  from  it  the  sense  which  they  desired. 
The  writings  of  the  Fathers  are  full  of  specimens 
of  the  extraordinary  exegesis  by  which  their  opponents 
managed  to  educe  their  far-fetched  mythological  con¬ 
ceptions  from  the  simplest  Scripture  words.  The 
Fathers  themselves  are  far  from  free  from  the  vice 
of  allegorical  interpretation  ;  but,  as  any  one  will  see 
on  comparison,  their  use  of  Scripture  was  sobriety  itself 
compared  with  that  of  the  Gnostics  whom  they  com¬ 
bated.1  The  question,  in  brief,  was  no  longer  as  to 
the  Canon  of  Scripture,  but  as  to  the  sense  to  be  drawn 
from  Scripture.  It  was  here  that  the  Fathers  fell  back 
on  a  second  line  of  defence,  sought  by  them  not  in 
Greek  philosophy,  but  in  what  they  named  The  Ride  of 
Faith — the  constant  and  steadfast  tradition  of  the  truth 
which  had  been  maintained  in  the  Churches  from  Apos- 

1  Cf.  Irenseus,  i.  9,  4,  and  passim. 


THE  TRADITIONAL  “ RULE  OF  FAITH” 


6  7 


tolic  days.  They  said — There  is  something  prior  to 
the  Scriptures.  The  Church  was  founded  by  the  oral 
word  of  the  Apostles  and  their  followers.  Their  testi¬ 
mony  has  been  handed  down  in  all  the  great  Churches  ; 
has  taken  definite  shape  in  the  practically  consentient 
forms  of  their  baptismal  confessions.  Consult  it  there, 
and  you  will  find  it  uniform  and  single — one  definite, 
Catholic  tradition,  which  all  the  Churches  possess,  and 
which  they  unitedly  carry  back  to  an  Apostolic 
source.1  It  aided  this  appeal  that  by  the  middle 
of  the  second  century  the  baptismal  formula  of  the 
Churches  had  already  crystallised  into  tolerably 
settled  shape  —  into  a  form  substantially  identical 
with  our  Apostle’s  Creed.2  In  other  words,  to  the 
wanton  speculation  of  those  who  sought  to  impose 
on  Scripture  a  sense  it  would  not  bear,  they  opposed 
the  consentient  testimony  of  all  the  great  branches 
of  the  Church  from  the  days  of  the  Apostles  down¬ 
wards.  This,  no  doubt,  was  the  introduction  of  the 
principle  of  tradition,  which  in  its  later  development 
wrought  so  much  harm.  But  it  was  a  legitimate  use  of 
that  principle  at  a  time  when  tradition  was  still  living. 
It  was  used  not  to  supersede  or  set  aside  Scripture,  but 
to  corroborate  it  ;  not  to  set  up  a  rival  authority,  but 
to  act  as  a  check  on  the  wantonness  and  extravagance 
of  an  interpretation  which  otherwise  would  have  no 
limit. 

Of  more  doubtful  utility  was  the  third  line  of  defence 
set  up,  in  the  attempt  to  secure,  in  turn,  a  guarantee  for 

1  Cf.  Iremeus,  i.  io  ;  Tertullian,  Prescript .  of  Heretics,  13,  18,  20,  21, 
28.  On  the  connection  with  baptismal  confession,  cf.  Irenseus,  i.  9,  4  ; 
Tertullian,  Against  Marcion ,  i.  21,  etc. 

2  I  need  only  refer  to  the  controversy  which  has  been  waged  on  the 
Continent  on  the  history  of  this  oldest  symbol.  The  English  reader  may 
consult  Dr.  Zahn’s  small  book  (translated),  or  Dr.  Swete’s  work  on  the 
same  subject.  For  comparative  tables,  cf.  Schaff,  History  (ante-Nicene), 
ii.  pp.  528-38. 


68 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  purity  of  the  tradition,  in  a  continuous  historical 
episcopate ,  conceived  of  as,  by  divine  ordinance,  the  de¬ 
pository  and  guardian  of  the  truth.  Pre-eminently,  of 
course,  the  truth  was  to  be  sought  for  in  those  great 
Churches,  e.g.,  Rome,  Antioch,  Corinth,  believed  to  have 
been  founded  by  Apostles  ;  and  lists  of  the  succession 
of  bishops  in  some  of  these  Churches  are  carefully 
given  in  proof  of  the  possibility  and  reality  of  this 
transmission  of  Apostolic  doctrine.1  That  an  im¬ 
portant  truth  lies  in  this  conception  of  a  chain  of 
faithful  witnesses  to  Apostolic  tradition  is  not  to  be 
denied  ; 2  but  the  precise  form  given  to  it  of  an 
Apostolical  succession  of  bishops  must  be  contested.3 
It  is  not  necessary  to  accept  Apostolic  episcopal 
succession  to  see  in  the  victory  over  Gnosticism  a 
triumph  of  the  fides  catholica  et  apostolica. 

The  gains  to  doctrinal  theology  as  the  result  of  this 
second -century  conflict  with  Gnosticism  are  not  less 
striking.  The  first  part  of  the  work  of  the  great  Anti- 
Gnostic  Fathers — Irenseus,  Tertullian,  Clement,  Hippo- 
lytus,  etc. — was,  like  that  of  the  Apologists,  polemical. 
They  had  to  carry  war  into  the  enemy’s  camp — to 
show  the  baselessness,  the  unchristian  character,  the 
immoral  tendencies,  of  the  Gnostic  imaginings.  No 
one  who  studies  the  great  work  of  Irenseus  Against 
Heresies ,  or  Tertullian’s  powerful  treatise  Against 
Marcion ,  will  deny  the  ability  with  which  this  work 
was  performed.  But  the  principal  task  forced  on  the 
Church  was  positive  ;  and  here  the  very  searchingness 
of  the  Gnostic  attack — the  fundamental  character  of 

1  Cf.  Irenseus,  iii.  1-4;  iv.  26  ;  Tertullian,  ut  supra ,  32  ;  Eusebius, 
History,  iv.  4,  5,  11,  19,  20,  22,  etc. 

2  Cf.  2  Tim.  ii.  2. 

3  Canon  Gore  admits  that  the  first  links  in  some  of  these  chains  of 
bishops  are  somewhat  “idealised”  ( Church  and  Ministry,  p.  306). 


GAINS  TO  DOCTRINAL  THEOLOGY 


69 


the  questions  it  raised,  some  of  which,  as  that  of  the 
relation  of  the  Old  to  the  New  Testament,  the 
Church  had  been  tempted  to  overlook  or  too  easily  to 
glide  over — compelled  its  representatives  to  grapple 
with  the  profoundest  theological  problems.  They  had 
to  rescue  the  Christian  idea  of  God  from  the  mytho¬ 
logical  speculations  that  defaced  it ;  to  secure  the  idea 
of  creation  against  that  of  involuntary  emanation  ;  to 
vindicate,  as  Paul  had  to  do  earlier,  the  glory  of  the 
Son  against  the  tendency  to  merge  Him  in  a  crowd  of 
Aions;1  to  defend,  with  John,  Christ’s  true  humanity 
against  a  variety  of  docetic  denials  ;  to  uphold  the  unity 
of  revelation  and  the  identity  of  the  God  of  the  Old 
Testament  with  the  God  of  the  Gospel ;  to  do  battle 
for  the  historicity  of  the  great  facts  of  Christ’s 
life — His  Virgin-birth,  His  miracles,  His  death,  His 
resurrection — against  theories  that  resolved  them  into 
allegories  ;  to  vindicate  the  universal  receptivity  of 
men  for  the  Gospel  as  against  Gnostic  exclusiveness 
and  pride.  Will  any  one  say  that  the  work  here  also 
was  not  well  done,  or  that  the  results  bear  any  real 
resemblance  to  ideas  of  Greek  philosophy  ? 2  I  am 
not  concerned  to  deny  that  in  [the  speculations  of 
some  of  the  Fathers— in  the  Alexandrian  school  especi¬ 
ally — -there  is  a  sensible  influence  of  Platonic  and 
Stoical  philosophy  on  the  Christian  construction.  Even 
this  need  not  be  condemned  as  altogether  evil,  for 
Christianity  has  its  kinship  with,  and  its  right  to 
assimilate,  the  highest  thoughts  of  ail  philosophies. 
But  it  will  be  found  that  it  is  precisely  the  element 
which  was  most  baneful  in  Platonism — its  conception 
of  God  as  abstract  Being  (to  ov\  exalted  above  all 

1  Cf.  Lightfoot’s  Colossians ,  p.  102. 

2  Cf.  Harnack’s  own  list  of  the  results  in  Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii.  p.  317 
(E.T. ).  It  is  not  easy  to  see  where  in  that  list  “  Hellenism”  comes  in. 


■»  J 


70  THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 

definite  predicates — which  later  theology  wrought  to 
overcome.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  take  the  theology 
of  such  as  Irenseus  as  a  type  of  the  constructive  work 
of  the  period,  we  find,  despite  the  fact  that  his  ideas 
are  nowhere  systematically  presented,  a  wealth  of 
profound  thoughts,  some  of  which  modern  theology  is 
only  beginning  fully  to  appreciate.  We  shall  have  to 
return  to  this  system  further  on.1  Meanwhile  I  only 
observe  that  a  theology  which  takes  the  incarnation 
for  its  centre ;  which  uses  this  as  the  key  to  the 
doctrines  of  God,  of  creation,  of  man,  of  redemption, 
of  the  final  issue  of  things  ;  which  unites  creation  in 
the  closest  way  with  redemption  ;  which  sees  in  Christ 
the  “  recapitulation  ”  of  humanity — its  central  Personage 
and  New  Head  ;  which  represents  Him  as  gathering 
up  all  created  things  into  one  in  Himself;2  which 
explains  the  redemption  of  sinners  on  the  same 
principle  of  One  representing  all  in  the  obedience  He 
rendered  to  God,  His  victory  over  Satan,  and  His 
endurance  of  what  was  due  to  the  righteous  ordinance 
of  God  connecting  death  with  sin — a  theology  of  this 
kind,  I  say,  is  one  regarding  which  it  is  not  presumptuous 
to  hold  that  the  Church  has  yet  a  long  way  to  travel 
before  it  leaves  it  behind. 


1  Cf.  Lect.  VII. 


2  Eph.  i.  10. 


Ill 


The  Doctrine  of  God  ;  Trinity  and  Deity  of  Son  and 
Spirit — Monarchian,  Arian,  and  Macedonian  Con¬ 
troversies  (Third  and  Fourth  Centuries) 


“  Heresies  of  different  kinds  have  never  originated  from  any  matter  in 
which  the  principle  involved  was  not  important  and  beneficial  to  human  life.” 
— Origen. 

1  ‘  The  natural  heresies  in  Christianity  are  the  Docetic  and  Nazaritic,  the 
Manichaean  and  Pelagian.” — Schleiermacher. 

1  ‘  Truth  of  any  kind  breeds  ever  new  and  better  truth  ;  thus  hard  granite 
rock  will  crumble  down  into  soil,  under  the  blessed  skyey  influences  ;  and 
cover  itself  with  verdure,  with  fruitage  and  umbrage.  But  as  for  Falsehood, 
which  in  like  contrary  manner,  grows  ever  falser — what  can  it,  or  what  should 
it  do  but  decrease,  being  ripe  ;  decompose  itself,  gently  or  even  violently,  and 
return  to  the  Father  of  it — too  probably  in  flames  of  fire.” — Carlyle. 


LECTURE  III 


The  Doctrine  of  God  ;  Trinity  and  Deity  of  Son  and  Spirit — 
Monarchian,  Arian,  and  Macedonian  Controversies  (Third 
and  Fourth  Centuries). 

The  work  of  the  Anti  -  Gnostic  Fathers  had  to  be 
accomplished  before  the  Church  was  fully  prepared  to 
enter  on  the  construction  of  its  peculiar  doctrines. 
Once,  however,  the  foundations  had  been  laid,  and  the 
issues  cleared,  in  the  conflict  with  pagan  polytheism  and 
Gnostic  emanationism,  new  questionings  arose,  and  the 
Church,  with  a  sure  instinct,  went  boldly  to  the  heart 
of  the  matter  in  the  determination  of  the  Christian 
concept  of  God  as  Triune,  and  the  vindication  of  the 
supreme  Deity  of  Son  and  Spirit.  These  doctrines 
were  early  drawn  into  the  field  of  controversy  by 
heretical  denial.  The  controversies  which  deal  with 
them  are  those  known  as  the  Monarchian,  Arian,  and 
Macedonian,  in  the  third  and  fourth  centuries.  There 
were,  however,  preparatory  developments  to  which  it 
will  be  necessary  to  give  attention.  I  shall  give  first 
an  account  of  the  earlier  stages  in  the  history  of  the 
doctrines  ;  then  proceed  to  speak  of  the  controversies 
by  which  these  earlier  conclusions  were  tested. 

I.  The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  is  that  which,  above 
all,  it  has  become  customary  to  trace  to  the  influence 
of  Greek  metaphysics.  It  is  well,  therefore,  to  re¬ 
member  that  it  was  the  uniform  contention  of  those 


74 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


who  fought  this  battle  against  the  various  forms  of 
heretical  denial,  that  the  doctrine  they  contended  for, 
while  not  theologically  formulated,  lay  in  the  faith  of 
the  Church  from  the  first,  as  involved  in  its  confession 
of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.  The  last  charge  the 
Fathers  of  that  age  would  have  pleaded  guilty  to  was 
that  they  were  bringing  in  new  doctrines,  or  importing 
speculations  from  philosophy  which  had  no  scriptural 
basis.  Their  aim  here,  as  in  the  Gnostic  controversies, 
was  conservation — the  defence  of  vital  interests  of  the 
faith  against  theories  which  they  believed  compromised 
or  negated  them.  Their  appeal,  accordingly,  was,  as 
before,  always  to  Scripture  and  to  continuous  Christian 
tradition.  When,  for  example,  Hippolytus,  or  whoever 
wrote  the  book  entitled  The  Little  Labyrinth ,  in  the 
commencement  of  the  third  century,  was  refuting  the 
Unitarians  of  his  day  (the  Artemonites),  he  appealed 
confidently  to  Scripture,  to  the  teaching  of  earlier 
writers,  and  to  Christian  psalms  and  hymns.  “  Per¬ 
chance,”  he  says,  “  what  they  allege  might  be  credible 
were  it  not  that  the  divine  Scriptures  contradict  them. 
.  .  .  For  who  knows  not  the  works  of  Irenseus  and 
Melito,  and  the  rest,  in  which  Christ  is  announced  as 
God  and  Man  ?  Whatever  psalms  and  hymns  were 
written  by  faithful  brethren  from  the  beginning  celebrate 
Christ  as  the  Word  of  God,  asserting  His  divinity.” 1 
On  both  sides  of  the  controversy  it  was  always  felt 

that  the  estimate  put  on  the  Person  of  Christ  was 

the  decisive  thing  for  faith  and  for  theology.  But 

the  confession  of  the  true  Deity  of  Son  and  Spirit 

necessarily  carried  thought  back  to  Triune  distinction 
in  the  Godhead  itself ;  and  baptism  in  the  Threefold 
Name 2  was  a  continuous  acknowledgment  that  this 

1  Euseb.  v.  28. 

2  Matt,  xxviii.  19  ;  cf.  2  Cor.  xiii.  14  ;  1  Pet.  i.  1  ;  Rev.  i.  4,  5, 


EBIONITES  AND  APOSTOLIC  FATHERS 


75 


distinction  belonged  essentially  to  the  Christian 
idea. 

The  earliest  impugners  of  the  divinity  of  Christ 
known  to  us  were  the  Jewish-Christian  Ebionites ,  who 
certainly  do  not  represent  the  living,  progressive 
element  in  early  Christianity,  but  stood  from  the  first 
on  a  low  level,  and  from  their  failure  to  grasp  the 
essential  nature  of  the  Gospel,  grew  only  the  more 
reactionary  and  impoverished  in  their  views  as  time 
went  on.  To  them  Jesus  was  simply  a  man  on  whom 
for  His  piety  the  Spirit  of  God  descended  at  the 
Baptism,  qualifying  Him  for  His  Messiahship.  Even 
the  better-minded  section  of  this  party — the  Nazarenes 
— cut  off  from  the  great  developing  body  of  Gentile 
Christianity,  and  cramped  by  their  environment,  tended, 
as  in  every  such  case  of  arrested  development,  to 
become  more  and  more  a  mere  sect — an  historical 
anachronism.  Ebionitism  disappeared  about  the  fifth 
century. 

We  cannot  look  generally  to  the  Apostolic  Fathers , 
as  they  are  called — Clement  of  Rome,  Barnabas, 
Hermas,  Ignatius,  Polycarp,  and  the  rest 1 — for  much 
aid  in  the  development  of  doctrine.  Of  the  more  con¬ 
sequence  is  it  to  notice  that  the  Christology  of  these 
Fathers  is,  as  a  rule,  remarkably  strong  and  clear. 
The  key-note  of  all  is  struck,  as  Harnack  correctly  says, 

etc.  ;  Didache ,  ch.  7.  Dorner  truly  says  of  the  baptismal  formula  that  it 
“  requires  us  to  regard  the  Father  as  the  Father  of  the  Son,  and  the  Son 
as  the  Son  of  the  Father,  and  therefore  does  not  signify  a  paternal  relation 
to  the  world  in  general,  but  to  the  Son,  who,  standing  between  the  Father 
and  the  Spirit,  must  be  somehow  thought  of  as  pertaining  to  the  sphere  of 
the  divine,  and  therefore  denotes  a  distinction  in  the  divine  itself.” — Syst. 
of  Doct.  i.  p.  351  (E.T.). 

1  The  designation  covers  generally  the  writers  and  literary  remains  of 
the  immediately  sub-apostolic  age. 


76 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


in  the  opening  words  of  Second  Clement,1  “  Brethren, 
we  ought  so  to  think  of  Jesus  Christ  as  of  God,  as  of 
the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead.”  Ignatius,  whose  chief 
theological  interest  lies  in  his  opposition  to  docetic 
denials  of  the  reality  of  Christ’s  humanity,  is  no  less 
decided  in  his  assertion  of  Christ’s  true  divinity,  calling 
Him  “Our  God,  Jesus  Christ.” 2  Even  the  recently- 
discovered  Didache ,  doctrinally  so  meagre,  is  pronounced 
enough  here.  Baptism  is  to  be  administered  in 
the  name  of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  and  Christ  is 
addressed  in  the  eucharistic  prayers  as  “  the  God  of 
David.” 3  I  mention  these  Fathers,  however,  chiefly 
to  refer  to  a  theory  of  Professor  Harnack’s,  which 
stands  in  connection  with  his  general  view  of  early 
Church  doctrine,  but  to  which  I  am  unable  to  assent. 
In  Professor  Harnack’s  judgment  we  must  distinguish 
in  the  writings  of  this  period  not  one  but  two  Christ- 
ological  types,  named  by  him  respectively  the  Adoptionist 
and  the  Pneumatic.  In  the  former  Jesus  is  regarded 
as  a  man  in  whom  God,  or  the  Spirit  of  God,  dwells, 
and  who,  after  His  probation  on  earth,  is  adopted  by 
God  and  raised  to  heavenly  glory  ;  in  the  latter  He  is 
regarded  as  a  heavenly  Spiritual  Being,  the  highest 
after  God,  who  has  assumed  flesh,  and  after  His  work 
on  earth  returns  to  heaven.  In  the  one  we  have  a 
man  who  has  become  God,  in  the  other  a  quasi-divine 
Being  who  has  become  man.4  On  this  theory  I  would 
submit  the  following  remarks.  In  the  first  place,  I 
would  point  out  that  the  only  writing  Professor 

1  Really  an  ancient  homily.  2  Ephesians ,  xviii. 

3  Chap.  x.  The  expression  is  so  strong  that  some  editors  have  taken 

the  liberty  of  expunging  it.  But  Harnack,  Lightfoot,  Schaff,  etc., 
defend  it. 

4  Cf.  Hist,  of  Dogma ,  i.  188-99  (E.T.).  Harnack’s  own  mind  would 
appear  to  incline  to  some  form  of  what  he  calls  the  Adoptionist  Christ- 
ology.  This  colours  his  treatment  in  more  places  than  one. 


HARNACK  ON  “  ABORTIONIST”  CHRISTOLOGY  77 


Harnack  can  adduce  for  his  “  Adoptionist  ”  Christology 
is  the  allegorical  Shepherd  of  Hermas.1  It  is  conceded 
that  the  Christology  of  the  rest  of  the  group  (Clement, 
Barnabas,  Ignatius,  Polycarp,  etc.)  is  what  he  calls 
“  Pneumatic.”  In  the  next  place,  I  would  question  the 
justice  of  his  description  of  even  the  “  Pneumatic  ” 
Christology.  He  finds  the  prototype  of  this  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians, 
and  the  Johannine  writings,  in  the  New  Testament. 
But  it  is  at  least  misleading  to  represent  these  Scriptures 
as  teaching  only  the  incarnation  of  a  heavenly,  spiritual 
Being,  without  recognising  that  this  Being  is  expressly 
held  to  be  in  the  fullest  sense  divine.  If  the  Apostolic 
Fathers  teach  a  doctrine  of  the  Son’s  divinity  as  high 
as  that  of  John,  or  Paul,  or  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
I  do  not  think  we  can  reasonably  ask  more.  But, 
finally,  does  even  Hermas  teach  only  an  “  Adoptionist  ” 
Christology  ?  I  cannot  admit  that  he  does.  There 
are,  indeed,  ambiguous  elements  in  Hermas’s  Christ¬ 
ology,  but  they  turn  rather  on  another  point  —  the 
relation  of  the  Son  to  the  Spirit  of  God.  With  regard 
to  Christ  Himself  there  seems  little  doubt  that  he 
meant  to  assert  a  true  incarnation  of  the  pre-existent 
Son.  In  one  place,2  for  instance,  Hermas  is  shown  a 
rock  and  a  gate,  and  is  told  that  they  denote  the  Son 
of  God.  How,  he  asks,  can  this  be,  seeing  that  the 
rock  is  old  and  the  gate  new?  It  is  replied — the  Son 
of  God  is  more  ancient  than  all  creation,  and  became 
the  Father’s  counsellor  in  His  creation.  For  this 
reason  He  is  old.  But  the  gate  is  new,  because  He 
was  made  manifest  in  the  last  days,  that  they  who 
are  to  be  saved  may  enter  through  it  into  the  Kingdom 

1  A  popular  early  allegory  in  three  parts — Visions,  Commands,  and 
Similitudes. 

2  Similitude  ix.  12, 


78 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


of  God.  This  surely  is  not  “  Adoptionist  ”  Christ- 
ology  ! 1  What  Harnack  describes  under  this  title  is 
really  the  view  of  Paul  of  Samosata  towards  the  close 
of  the  third  century.'2 3 

In  the  Apologists,  whose  general  position  and  work 
I  discussed  in  last  lecture,  we  find,  as  was  to  be  antici¬ 
pated,  a  considerable  theological  advance.  It  is 

granted — and  it  is  something  to  have  it  admitted — 
that  these  writers  held  firmly  by  the  Trinitarian  formula, 
and,  further,  unanimously  believed  that  it  was  the 
Second  Person  of  the  Trinity,  the  “  Logos,”  one  in 

essence  with  the  Father,8  who  became  incarnate  in 

Christ.  A  serious  charge  is  nevertheless  brought 
against  the  apologists  by  the  newer  school.  It  is 

alleged,  first,  that  they  shifted  the  centre  of  gravity  in 
Christian  theology,  and  led  it  into  a  wrong  track,  in 
introducing  this  Logos  speculation  at  all  ; 4  and  second, 
that  the  Logos  with  these  Fathers  is  a  cosmological, 
and  not  primarily  a  Christological,  conception  —  is, 
therefore,  a  part  of  that  “  natural  theology  ”  into  which 
they  are  reproached  for  converting  Christianity.  It  is 
the  cosmological  interest,  it  is  held,  and  not  the 
Christian,  which  drew  them  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
Logos.  Is  this  charge  just  ?  Only,  I  think,  in  a  very 
partial  degree.  First,  as  to  the  origin  of  the  notion, 
while  Philo  of  Alexandria  has  a  doctrine  of  the  Logos, 
it  is  an  unwarrantable  assumption  that  the  apologists 

1  Pfleiderer,  Dorner,  .Salmon,  Donaldson,  etc.,  do  not  take  Harnack’s 
view  of  the  Christology  of  Hernias.  Harnack  seems  to  attach  generally 
a  quite  disproportionate  importance  to  this  writing,  which  is  of  the 
slightest  theological  merit. 

2  See  end  of  Lecture. 

3  Cf.  Harnack,  ii.  p.  211  (E.T.) — “The  inner  essence  of  the  Logos 
is  identical  with  the  essence  of  God  Himself.” 

4  Thus  Kaftan  in  his  Truth  of  the  Christian  Religion. 


LOGOS  DOCTRINE  OF  APOLOGISTS 


79 


got  their  idea  from  Philo,  and  not  from  a  much  nearer 
source — the  Apostle  John.  John’s  Gospel  we  know 
to  have  been  in  their  hands,  and  Theophilus  expressly 
founds  on  it,1  but  Philo  is  never  once  mentioned  in 
their  pages.2  It  is  different  with  the  Alexandrians, 
who  do  use  Philo.3  Besides,  the  argument  for  the 
divinity  of  Christ,  and  for  distinctions  in  the  Godhead, 
is  not  founded  on  this  term  alone,  but  is  based  broadly 
on  the  Gospel  testimony,  and  on  Old  Testament 
Scripture.4  Next,  as  to  the  cosmology,  while  it  is 
true  that,  as  befitted  their  apologetic  aim,  they  gave 
special  prominence  to  the  rational  side  of  this  doctrine, 
and,  as  theologians  and  Christian  philosophers,  used  it, 
as  the  apostles  also  did,5  to  connect  the  Christology 
with  the  cosmology  —  thus  lifting  Christianity  clear 
away  from  and  above  all  Judaic  limitations  6 — I  cannot 
hold  it  as  established  that  the  cosmological  was  the 
primary  interest  to  their  faith.  The  first  thing  with 
these  writers  was  incontestably  the  fact  of  the  Logos 
incarnate ;  7  from  this  they  moved  back,  with  the  New 
Testament,  to  the  connection  of  the  Logos  or  Son  with 
creation.  The  result  was  their  conviction  that  the 
principle  of  revelation  was  likewise  the  principle  of 
creation,  and  vice  versa — a  very  important  basis  for 

1  Chap.  xxii. 

2  Siegfried  seeks  to  trace  resemblances,  but  can  adduce  no  allusions 
or  quotations,  Philo  von  Alex.,  pp.  332  ff.  This  is  the  more  remarkable 
that  Plato  and  other  philosophers  are  constantly  noticed.  As  Siegfried 
finds  Philo  everywhere  in  the  New  Testament — in  the  Synoptics,  Pauline 
Epistles,  James,  as  well  as  in  the  Fourth  Gospel  and  Hebrews — his 
resemblances  must  be  taken  with  caution. 

3  E.g.,  Clement,  Stromata ,  i.  6,  21,  23,  etc. 

4  Cf.  Justin’s  Dialogue,  passim. 

5  John  i.  2;  1  Cor.  viii.  6;  Eph.  iii.  9;  Col.  i.  15-17;  Heb.  i.  2;  Rev. 
iii.  14. 

6  Cf.  Ritschl,  Entstehung  ( 1857),  p.  307. 

7  Cf.  Dorner  on  Justin,  Person  of  Christ,  ii.  p.  265  (E.T. ) — “The 
doctrine  of  the  Logos  is  thought  out  by  him  not  a  priori ,  but  from 
history,’’  etc. 


8o 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  refutation  of  Gnosticism,  and  for  a  sound  philo¬ 
sophy  of  religion. 

Still,  it  is  to  be  conceded  that  the  Logos  doctrine 
of  the  apologists  is  not  yet  that  of  the  later  Nicene 
theology,  and  that,  judged  by  this  standard,  it  has 
serious  defects.  It  would  be  too  much  to  expect  that 
an  attempt  of  this  kind  would  be  successful  all  at  once, 
and  neither  was  it.  The  task  these  writers  had  before, 
them  was  admittedly  a  difficult  one.  They  were 
practically  agreed  in  their  doctrine  of  the  Logos,  and 
aimed  at  conserving  Christ’s  entire  and  perfect  divinity. 
But  in  carrying  back  the  distinction  of  Father  and  Son 
into  the  Godhead,  they  could  not  decline  the  obligation 
of  showing  how  this  was  reconcilable  with  monotheism. 
The  task  was  laid  on  them  of  reconstructing  their 
doctrine  of  God  so  as  to  include  the  distinction  of 
Father  and  Son — also  of  Spirit.  They  had  to  attempt 
not  only  a  theology  of  the  Person  of  Christ,  but  a 
theology  of  the  Trinity.  And  the  theory  they  con¬ 
structed,  while  the  precursor  of  the  Nicene,  shows 
logical  gaps  which  subsequent  controversy  was  bound 
to  bring  to  light.  The  chief  difference  was,  that, 
while  attributing  to  the  Logos  a  real  and  eternal  mode 
of  subsistence  in  God,  they  did  not,  apparently,  regard 
this  mode  of  subsistence  as  personal,  but  held  that  the 
“  coming  forth  ”  or  “  begetting  ”  (g/evvrjcn^)  of  the  Son 
as  a  distinct  hypostasis  was  immediately  prior  to 
creation,  and  with  a  view  to  it.  That  is  to  say,  the 
Logos  was  eternal,  but  His  personal  subsistence  as  Son 
was  not.  Further,  as  against  the  Gnostic  view  of 
involuntary  emanation,  this  generation  of  the  Son  for 
the  work  of  creation  was  represented  as  an  act  of  the 
Father’s  will.  This  is  the  view  of  Justin  probably,  of 
other  leading  apologists  certainly  ; 1  and  it  continued 
1  Justin,  Second  Apol.  6;  Athenagoras,  io;  Tatian,  5;  Theophilus, 


THEOLOGY  OF  GREEK  FATHERS 


81 


long  to  be  the  view  in  the  Latin  Church.  Tertullian, 
eg.,  expressly  says :  “  There  was  a  time  when  the 
Father  had  no  Son.” 1  It  will  be  evident  that  this 
Logos  doctrine  of  the  apologists  gave  a  certain  point  of 
support  to  the  later  Sabellian  and  Arian  constructions  : 
to  the  Sabellian,  in  the  idea  of  the  Logos  as  a  modal, 
not  personal,  distinction  in  the  Godhead  ;  and  to  the 
Arian,  in  the  admission  that  there  was  a  time  when 
the  Son  was  not,  and  that  He  was  produced  by  an  act 
of  the  Father’s  will.  Yet  nothing  could  be  further 
from  the  minds  of  the  apologists  than  to  give  support 
to  either  of  these  views.  Their  doctrine  differs  dia¬ 
metrically  from  that  of  the  Arians  in  that  they  held 
the  Son  to  be  truly  of  the  Father’s  essence  ;  and  it 
differs  from  the  Sabellian,  in  that  they  affirmed  the 
existence  of  three  distinct  hypostases ,  or  persons,  in  the 
Godhead,  antecedent  to  and  since  the  Creation. 

This  brings  me  to  the  consideration  of  the  Anti- 
Gnostic  >  especially  the  Greek,  Fathers ,  by  whom  the  real 
foundations  of  this  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  were  laid. 
In  Irenaeus,  the  earliest  of  these  Fathers,  the  enuncia¬ 
tion  of  this  doctrine  is  full  and  clear.  He  frees  its 
statement  from  those  ambiguities  we  have  seen  adhering 
to  it  in  the  apologists,  and  firmly  asserts  the  eternal 
subsistence,  the  full  divinity,  and  the  personal  distinct¬ 
ness  of  the  Logos  who  afterwards  became  incarnate  in 
Christ.  “  The  Logos,”  as  Harnack  expounds  him,  “  is 
the  revelation-hypostasis  of  the  Father,  ‘the  self- revela¬ 
tion  of  the  self-conscious  God/  and,  indeed,  the  eternal 
self-revelation.  For  according  to  him  the  Son  always 

ii.  io.  Bishop  Bull  labours  hard  to  bring  these  writers  into  line  with 
Nicene  orthodoxy,  but,  as  Dr.  Newman  admits,  in  vain.  Cf.  Bull’s 
Defence  of  Nicene  Creed ,  bk.  iii.  chaps,  ii.  v.  ;  Newman’s  Arians ,  App. 
note  2.  See  Harnaek’s  Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii.  pp.  210-12  (E.T. ). 

1  Against  Hermogenes ,  3. 

G 


82 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


existed  with  God,  always  revealed  the  Father,  and  it 
was  always  the  full  Godhead  that  He  revealed  in 
Himself.  In  other  words,  He  is  God  in  His  specific 
nature,  truly  God,  and  there  is  no  distinction  of  essence 
between  Him  and  God.” 1  Tertullian,  as  we  have 
seen,  followed  in  the  steps  of  the  apologists  in  his 
doctrine  of  the  Son  ;  yet  in  controversy  he  struck  out 
many  important  thoughts,  and  had  a  decisive  influence 
on  the  nomenclature  of  theology.  It  is  to  him,  e.g., 
we  owe  such  expressions  as  “  generation,”  “  one  sub¬ 
stance,”  “three  persons.”  2  He  conceives  of  the  Trinity 
as  a  dispositio  or  economia  in  God  which  anteceded  the 
Creation,  and  defends  the  unity  by  the  thought  that 
the  unity  is  not  abrogated  when  it  derives  the  Trinity 
from  itself.3  But  he  is  as  emphatic  as  the  Nicene 
Fathers  in  affirming  that  Son  and  Spirit  are  of  “one 
substance  ”  with  the  Father.4 

It  is,  however,  the  Alexandrian  theologians  who 
had  most  effect  on  the  development  of  our  doctrine, 
and  this  is  the  place,  perhaps,  at  which  a  few  words 
ought  to  be  said  on  the  general  character  of  this 
important  school.  Alexandria  was  the  most  wonder¬ 
ful  city  of  the  ancient  world,  in  an  intellectual  respect, 
after  Athens.  It  is  difficult  to  give  an  adequate  idea 
of  it,  with  its  motley  population,  its  seething  life,  its 

1  Hist,  of  Dogma,  ii.  p.  264  (E.T. ).  He  grants  that  Irenaeus  “does 
not  utilise  the  distinction  in  the  interest  of  cosmology.” 

2  Some  confusion  arose  from  the  fact  that  the  Latin  writers  used 
“hypostasis”  as  the  equivalent  of  “substance,”  while  the  Greeks  took  it 
in  the  sense  of  “person.”  This  ambiguity  was  subsequently  cleared  up 
(Council  of  Alexandria,  362  A.D.). 

3  Against  Praxeas ,  3,  5. 

4  Ibid.  2.  It  is  unfair  when  Harnack  says  (ii.  p.  258),  “Here  then 
the  Gnostic  doctrine  of  aeons  is  adopted  in  its  complete  form,  only  with 
limitation  to  three.”  Tertullian  (sect.  8)  repels  this  very  objection,  and 
cogently  shows  the  difference  of  his  view  from  that  of  the  Valentinians. 


ALEXANDRIA  AND  ITS  SCHOOL 


83 


clashing  of  a  hundred  rival  philosophies  and  religions, 
its  fusion  of  Greek,  Jewish,  and  Oriental  modes  of 
thought — the  city  of  Philo,  where  Basilides  taught,  where 
Neo-Platonism  had  its  birth,  where  Athanasius  was 
afterwards  to  rule.  It  is  easy  to  forecast  the  character 
of  the  theology  which  would  grow  up  under  such  con¬ 
ditions.  As  earlier,  in  Philo,  we  have  the  blending  of 
Jewish  ideas  with  Greek  philosophy,  so  now  it  was  to 
be  anticipated  that  the  attempt  would  be  made  to  wed 
Christianity  to  the  thought  and  culture  which  were  the 
predominant  influences  in  this  busy  intellectual  centre. 
This  is,  in  fact,  what  happened.  The  new  spirit  found 
its  embodiment  in  the  famous  Catechetical  School  of 
the  city,  commenced  by  Pantaenus,  then  presided  over 
with  such  distinction  by  Clement  (till  202  A.D.),  and 
subsequently  by  Origen  (till  231  A.D.).  It  is  the  char¬ 
acteristic  of  this  school  that  it  takes  a  genial  view  of 
heathen  culture,  does  not  cut  itself  away  from  it,  but 
rather  seeks  to  assimilate  what  is  good  in  it  to  itself. 
It  believes  that  the  God  of  the  Gospel  is  also  the  God 
of  the  first  Creation,  and  that  all  learning  and  science 
— all  development  of  the  God-given  faculties  of  man — 
are  sacred,  or  are  capable  of  becoming  so.  It  thus 
seeks  to  connect  Christianity,  as  the  principle  of  a  new 
humanity,  with  the  whole  circle  of  man’s  intellectual 
and  moral  interests.  It  does  this,  at  the  same  time,  on 
Christian  ground,  not  seeking,  as  is  sometimes  charged 
against  it,  to  exalt  knowledge  above  faith,  but  holding 
rather  that  the  true  knowledge  must  always  be  based 
on  faith,  love,  and  obedience.1  In  tendency  the  school 
was  speculative,  idealising,  spiritualising.  But  it  is  not 
an  Antichristian  Gnosis,  but  a  Christian  one,  which  it 
seeks  to  develop.  The  great  teachers  take  their  stand 

1  In  Clement  the  Word  first  exhorts,  then  trains,  then  teaches. — 
Pedagogue ,  i.  I,  2. 


84 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


explicitly  on  the  Christian  “  Rule  of  Faith  ” — the  canon 
ecclesiasticus — and  on  the  Scriptures,  to  which  appeal 
is  made  as  a  final  authority.1  Origen,  in  his  First 
Principles — the  earliest  extant  attempt  at  a  systematic 
theology  —  very  properly  distinguishes  between  the 
things  certainly  believed  by  the  Church,  and  his  own 
speculations  on  points  not  included  in  the  Church’s 
teaching,  to  which  he  does  not  attach  the  same 
authority.2  With  all  its  faults,  I  venture  to  think 
that  the  Alexandrian  School  had  an  ideal  we  do  well 
to  cherish,  and  bore  witness  to  a  truth  of  no  slight 
importance,  viz.,  that  Christianity  is  the  principle  of 
transformation  for  all  our  humanity.3 

In  this  school,  accordingly,  though  not  in  an  un¬ 
christian  sense,  we  get  the  nearest  approach  to  Professor 
Harnack’s  theory  of  a  fusion  of  Christian  with  Greek 
modes  of  thought.  On  our  present  subject  of  the 
doctrine  of  God,  we  find  in  the  Alexandrian  Fathers 
both  advance  and  defect.  Clement’s  mind  is  super¬ 
latively  idealistic  ;  but  on  the  Trinity  he  holds  that  the 
Logos  or  Son  is  eternally  pre-existent  with  the  P'ather.4 
Thus,  like  Irenaeus,  he  frees  himself  from  the  view  of 
the  apologists  that  the  personal  subsistence  of  the  Son 
began  with  the  Creation.  Still,  the  personality  of  the 

1  Cf.  Clement,  Stromata ,  vi.  15;  vii.  16,  “Scripture  the  criterion  by 
which  truth  and  heresy  are  distinguished  ”  ;  Origen,  First  Principles , 
Preface. 

2  i.  6. 

a  As  against  the  charges  of  Platonising,  etc.,  brought  against  these 
Fathers,  we  should  note  Harnack’s  admissions  that  Clement’s  superiority 
is  shown  “in  his  contriving  to  preserve  at  all  points  his  connection  with 
the  faith  of  the  main  body  of  Christendom,”  and  in  “the  rejection  of  all 
conceptions  that  could  not  be  verified  from  Holy  Scripture,  or  at  least 
easily  reconciled  with  it  ”  ;  that  “  Origen  was  an  exegete  who  believed  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and,  indeed,  he  viewed  all  theology  as  a  methodical 
exegesis  of  Holy  Writ  ”  ;  and  that,  despite  trammels,  there  are  passages  in 
both  Clement  and  Origen  “which  reproduce  and  set  forth  the  preaching 
of  the  Gospel  in  a  surprisingly  appropriate  way  ”  (ii.  pp.  327,  335,  376). 

4  Cf.  Stromata ,  v.  I  ;  vii.  1-3,  etc. 


THE  TRINITY  OF  ORIGEN 


85 


Son  seems  always  with  this  Father  in  danger  of 
again  merging  into  the  simple  attribute  of  the  divine 
Reason.  Origen,  on  the  other  hand,  emphasises  the 
personal  distinction,  and  gives  the  doctrine  a  develop¬ 
ment  which  marks  real  progress.  Both  he  and  Clement 
treat  God  in  His  exaltedness  too  Platonically  ;  but 
Origen’s  distinction  from  the  Gnostics  is  seen  in  the 
fact  that,  as  his  critic  admits,  he  “  attributes  self-con¬ 
sciousness  and  will  to  this  superessential  essence,  in 
opposition  to  Valentinus,  Basilides,  and  the  later  Neo- 
Platonists.  .  .  .  He  conceives  of  God  in  a  more  living, 
and,  so  to  speak,  in  a  more  personal  way,  than  the 
Greek  philosophers.” 1  That  is  to  say,  his  doctrine  is 
not  that  of  the  Gnostics  or  philosophers  at  all,  and 
Professor  Harnack  is  at  fault  in  continually  seeking  to 
suggest  a  fundamental  identity. 

Origen’s  peculiarity  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
was  twofold.  First,  to  him  is  due  the  introduction  into 
theology  of  the  notion  of  the  “  eternal  generation  ”  of 
the  Son  —  meaning  by  this  an  ineffable  timeless 
origination  from  the  Father’s  essence  which  is  to  be 
distinguished  from  Creation.  Origen’s  view  on  this 
point  may  fitly  be  regarded,  as  Dorner  suggests,  as  the 
higher  unity  of  the  views  of  preceding  theologians.  The 
apologists  and  Tertullian  held  a  ryevvyens  of  the  Son, — 
a  generation,  or  coming  forth  into  hypostatic  existence, 
— but  it  was  not  eternal.  Clement  recognised  the 
eternal  distinction  ;  but  his  was  a  Trinity,  so  to  speak, 
in  statu , — a  stationary  Trinity, —  in  which  the  personality 
of  the  Son  was  only  precariously  secured.  Origen  over¬ 
comes  this  by  introducing  into  the  doctrine  the  concep¬ 
tion  of  living  movement  or  process, — of  an  ever-circling 
life  in  the  Godhead, — in  virtue  of  which  the  Son  is 
eternally  begotten  of  the  Father,  and  the  Spirit 

1  Cf.  Stromata ,  ii.  pp.  349-50. 


86 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


eternally  proceeds  from  both.  That  is,  he  retains  the 
notion  of  the  yevvrjaLs,  but  carries  it  back  to  eternity.1 
Dorner  justly  remarks  in  proof  of  the  value  of  this 
conception  that,  whereas  other  conceptions  of  Origen 
— his  doctrine  of  eternal  creation,  of  the  pre-existence 
of  souls,  of  final  restitution,  etc. — have  never  obtained 
ecclesiastical  recognition,  “  his  doctrine  of  the  eternal 
generation  of  the  Son,  on  the  contrary,  attained, 
through  its  own  weight,  the  position  of  a  corner-stone 
in  the  doctrinal  edifice  of  the  Church.”  2 

Origen  had  thus  secured  the  hypostasis  of  the  Son  : 
was  there  not  a  danger  now  of  imperilling  the  divine 
unity  ?  This  is  the  second  peculiarity  in  his  view — 
the  way  in  which  he  seeks  to  safeguard  the  divine 
unity  in  the  midst  of  these  distinctions.  This  he 
endeavoured  to  do  through  his  doctrine  of  subordina¬ 
tion.  The  Father,  in  His  absolute,  underived  existence, 
is  held  to  be  the  primal  source  ( apxv )  °f  the  Godhead  ; 
the  Son,  though  the  perfect  image  of  the  Father,  has 
derived  existence.  The  Spirit  is  derived  in  a  degree 
yet  further  removed.  The  Father,  therefore,  is  alone 
the  Most  High  God  :  Christ,  though  divine,  is  related 
to  the  Father  as  a  derivative  and  subordinate  Being. 
Origen  stayed  himself  on  the  words  in  John,  “  My 
Father  is  greater  than  I.”3  He  speaks  even  of  the 
Son  as  a  “  second  God  ”  (SeuTepo?  0eo?).4  It  is  easy  to 
see  that  this  view  gave  a  ready  point  of  contact  to 
later  Arianism.  For  if  full  Godhead  is  made  to  consist 
in  the  attributes  of  self-existence,  ingenerateness,  etc., 
and  these  are  reserved  for  the  Father,  and  declared  to 
be  incommunicable,  how  can  the  Son,  who  is  denied 

1  First  Principles ,  i.  2,  3  ;  iv.  28,  etc.  Cf.  Dorner,  Person  of  Christ , 
ii.  pp.  108-16. 

2  ii.  p.  1 14.  3  John  xiv.  28. 

4  Against  Celsus,  v.  39.  Similarly,  the  apologists  and  Tertullian. 
Cf.  Tertullian,  Against  Praxeas ,  3. 


THE  MONARCHIAN  HERESIES 


87 


these  attributes,  be  said  to  have  perfect  divinity  ? 
Here  is  a  weakness  in  the  theory  of  Origen  which  the 
later  Athanasian  doctrine  had  to  overcome  ;  and  it  is 
not  difficult  to  trace  whence  this  weakness  arises.  It 
arises  precisely  from  that  undue  influence  of  the 
Platonic  conception  of  God  as  the  incomprehensible 
to  op, — Being  raised  above  finite  determinations,  almost 
above  existence  itself, — to  which  Origen’s  own  doctrine 
of  eternal,  living  movement  in  the  nature  of  God 
furnished  the  antidote,1  but  which  it  was  left  for  future 
theology  more  perfectly  to  purge  out.  I  do  not  deny, 
therefore,  a  relative  Greek  influence  in  the  formation  of 
Alexandrian  doctrine  :  I  hold  only  that  it  is  not,  as 
Harnack  and  others  would  make  it,  the  moving  spring 
in  the  development,  which  here,  as  elsewhere,  follows  its 
own  logic,  despite  partial  deflections. 

II.  The  way  is  now  open  for  the  consideration  ot 
the  series  of  controversies  by  which  the  conclusions 
which  we  have  found  shaping  themselves  in  the 
preceding  development  were  put  to  the  proof.  It  will 
be  seen  as  we  go  on  that  they  follow  the  logical  order 
of  the  subjects — the  Monarchical  relating  (mainly)  to 
the  Father,  the  Avian  to  the  Son,  and  the  Macedonian 
to  the  Holy  Spirit. 

As  the  second  century  was  the  period  of  the  Gnostic 
heresies,  so  the  third  century  was  pre-eminently  the 
period  of  the  Monarchian  heresies.  And  as  out  of  the 
conflict  with  the  Gnostic  opposition  the  Church 
emerged  with  a  clearer  grasp  of  the  great  fundamental 
truths  of  religion,  so  out  of  the  conflict  with 

1  I  have  observed  above  that  Origen  never  quite  surrenders  himself  to 
this  conception,  indeed,  has  positive  elements  in  his  idea  of  God  (self- 
consciousness,  will,  etc.)  wholly  incompatible  with  it.  Cf.  Dorner,  ii. 
pp.  130-44. 


88 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Monarchianism  it  emerged  with  a  firmer  grasp  of  the 
Christian  concept  of  God — of  that  view  of  God,  namely, 
which  is  involved  in  its  own  assertion  of  a  real  incarna¬ 
tion,  and  a  real  work  of  the  Spirit.  In  light  of  what 
has  been  said  in  the  previous  pages,  it  is  not  difficult  to 
understand  how  the  forms  of  heresy  I  am  to  describe 
should  have  originated.  As  soon  as  an  explicit 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity  began  to  be  formulated,  it  was 
inevitable  that  it  should  be  opposed,  if  on  no  other 
ground  than  that  of  its  alleged  novelty.  The  question 
was  bound  to  arise,  How  is  the  doctrine  of  a  Trinity 
to  be  reconciled  with  the  fundamental  article  of  the 
unity  of  God  ?  1  The  divine  “  Monarchia  ” — the  sole 
government  of  God,  as  against  Polytheism — seemed 
imperilled.  But  not  only  the  theological  interest  ;  even 
the  Christological  interest  seemed  put  in  danger  by  the 
process  of  the  development.  The  strong  subordination- 
ism  of  certain  of  the  Fathers, — eg.,  of  the  apologists  and 
Origen, — the  way  in  which  they  sought  to  secure  the 
distinct  hypostasis  of  the  Son  by  speaking  of  Him  as  a 
“  second  God,” — the  precarious  way  in  which  they 
connected  the  Logos  with  the  Father’s  will, — evoked 
the  feeling  that  not  the  unity  of  God  alone,  but  the 
true  divinity  of  Christ  Himself  was  compromised.  It 
was  not,  after  all,  very  God  who  was  manifested  in 
Christ.  It  was  these  two  interests  in  combination — 
the  theological  and  the  Christological,  the  interest  in 
the  divine  unity  and  the  interest  in  the  Son’s  divinity — 
which  wrought  to  produce  the  type  of  heresy  we  call 
Monarchian  :  which  led,  eg.,  in  the  Patripassians,  to  the 
rejection  of  the  hypostatic  Logos  altogether,  and  to  the 
assertion  that  the  Father  Himself  had  become  incarnate 

1  Tertullian,  in  his  treatise  against  Praxeas,  gives  a  vivid  account  of  the 
fears  and  prejudices  entertained  by  many  (sect.  3)  ;  so  also  Hippolytus, 
Refut.  of  Her.  ix.  1.  Both  Fathers  retort  the  charge  of  novelty  on  their 
opponents. 


ORIGIN  OF  MONA  R  CHI  A  NISM 


89 


in  Christ.  Only  thus,  they  thought,  could  they  make 
sure  that  in  Him  they  had  the  true  and  absolute  God. 
These  profounder  interests  were  crossed,  of  course,  in 
many  minds  by  shallower  ones  :  by  the  simple  recoil 
from  mystery,  the  desire  to  have  everything  made 
plain,  level,  easy  to  the  common  understanding,  the 
lack  of  appreciation  for  the  deeper  elements  of  Christian 
doctrine.  Enough  has  been  said  to  show,  however, 
that  the  heresies  I  speak  of  are  not  to  be  set  down  to 
sheer  love  of  error — few  serious  heresies  are — but  are 
clearly  explicable  from  the  nature  of  the  case  and  the 
circumstances  of  the  time.  Neither  are  they  to  be  set 
aside  as  of  slight  interest  to  ourselves.  The  third 
century  will  be  found  swarming  with  theories  which  bear 
the  most  singular  resemblance  to  those  of  our  own 
day — of  which  many  modern  theories,  indeed,  are 
little  more  than  reproductions ;  and  in  studying  the 
grounds  on  which  the  Church  rejected  them,  we  are 
gaining  no  small  assistance  in  the  solving  of  our  own 
problems. 

Monarchianism,  as  a  form  of  error,  goes  back  to  the 
last  quarter  of  the  second  century.  Tertullian  is  the 
first  who  gives  it  this  name.1  It  denotes  in  general,  as 
already  explained,  the  tendency  which  emphasises  the 
unity  of  God,  and  rejects  the  personal  Trinity.  This 
rejection,  however,  may  take  place  in  two  widely 
different  forms.  Where,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
theological  interest  is  strong  and  the  Christological 
interest  is  weak,  we  have  naturally  an  exaltation  of  the 
divine  unity  at  the  expense  of  Christ’s  true  divinity — 
an  Ebionitic  or  Unitarian  Monarchianism.  Where,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  Christological  interest  is  predominant 
— where,  i.e.y  the  motive  is  to  safeguard  Christ’s  true 

1  Against  Praxeas,  3  ff. 


90 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


divinity — we  have  an  identification  of  Christ  with  the 
One  Person  of  the  Godhead,  who  is  then  viewed  as 
assuming  this  particular  mode  of  manifestation — a 
modalistic  Monarchianism  :  in  its  earlier  form 
Patripassianism,  in  its  more  developed  form  Sabellianism. 
We  have  therefore  two  classes  of  Monarchians  :  (i  )  the 
Ebionitic,  Unitarian,  or  dynamical  Monarchians;1 
and  (2)  the  modalistic  Monarchians  in  their  two 
divisions  of  Patripassians  and  Sabellians.  I  proceed  to 
a  brief  review  of  both. 

At  the  head  of  the  Ebionitic  type  of  Monarchianism, 
perhaps  of  both  forms,  is  the  obscure  sect  of  the  Alogi 
in  Asia  Minor  (cir.  170-80  A.D.), — Synopticists,  we 
might  call  them, — who,  from  an  Antimontanistic  motive,2 
held  fast  by  what  they  regarded  as  the  Christology  of 
the  Synoptic  Gospels,  and  rejected  the  Logos  doctrine 
of  the  Gospel  of  John.  Hence  their  name,  “  deniers  of 
the  Logos.”  It  is  not  clear  whether  they  admitted  the 
divinity  of  Christ  in  any  form  ;  we  know  that  at  least 
they  accepted  the  supernatural  birth.3  Thereafter,  for 
several  decades,  the  chief  theatre  of  the  movement  was 
Rome.  There,  in  the  beginning  of  the  third  century, 
an  aggressive,  purely  Unitarian  form  of  Monarchianism 
had  vogue — first  under  one  Theodotus  of  Byzantium,  a 
currier,  who  was  excommunicated  by  the  Bishop 

1  I  reject  Harnack’s  name  “  Adoptionist  ”  for  this  group,  both  as  in 
itself  unsuitable,  and  as  a  name  already  specifically  appropriated  to  a 
heresy  of  far  later  date  (eighth  century).  See  below,  p.  206. 

2  Montanism,  formerly  referred  to,  was  an  enthusiastic  prophetic 
movement  which  claimed  to  inaugurate  the  era  of  the  Paraclete.  It 
originated  in  Phrygia  in  the  middle  of  the  second  century,  and  attained  to 
large  dimensions.  Tertullian  was  its  most  noted  and  only  great  convert. 

3  Epiphanius,  51.  They  rejected  also  the  Apocalypse.  Harnack 
attaches  to  this  obscure  party  a  quite  unmerited  importance — speaks  of 
them  even  as  “the  first  to  undertake  within  the  Church  a  historical 
criticism  worthy  of  the  name  of  the  Christian  Scriptures  and  the  Church 
tradition  ”  (iii.  p.  19). 


THE  PA  TRIPASS/AN  DOCTRINE 


9i 


Victor  ; 1  then  under  a  younger  Theodotus,  a  banker  ; 
finally,  in  the  kindred  party  of  the  Artemonites,  so- 
called  from  their  founder  Artemon.  The  older 

Theodotus  was  a  man  well  versed  in  Greek  culture. 
He  is  said  to  have  taught  that  Christ  was  “  mere  man  ” 
(fiXo9  avOpcoTTos),  but  admitted  His  supernatural  birth. 
The  descent  of  the  Spirit  upon  Him  at  the  Baptism 
was  the  reward  of  His  pre-eminent  piety.  Even  so  He 
was  not  God,  though  some  of  his  party  are  said  to  have 
taught  that  Jesus  became  God  after  the  resurrection — a 
view  akin  to  that  of  Paul  of  Samosata.2  The  views  of 
the  Artemonites  were  not  dissimilar.  They  were 
refuted  in  the  work  entitled  The  Little  Labyrinth,  by 
Hippolytus  or  a  presbyter  Caius,  to  which  allusion  has 
already  been  made.  What  interests  us  in  these  dis¬ 
cussions  is  that  the  appeal  of  the  Church  writers  is 
above  all  to  Scripture,  which  they  accuse  their  opponents 
of  abandoning  for  Euclid,  and  Aristotle,  and  Theo¬ 
phrastus,  and  Galen.3 

Of  weightier  significance  is  the  other  type  of 
Monarchianism — that  which  I  have  named  the  modal- 
istic.  Its  earlier  Patripassian  form  had  a  brief  but 
curious  history.  The  essence  of  this  view,  as  already 

1  Harnack  says  that  “  his  is  the  first  instance  of  which  we  are  certain, 
where  a  Christian  who  took  his  stand  on  the  rule  of  faith  was  yet  treated 
as  a  heretic”  (iii.  p.  21).  But  it  may  be  doubted  how  far  it  would  be 
allowed  that  Theodotus  stood  on  the  rule  of  faith.  The  author  of  The 
Little  Labyrinth  says  of  his  party,  “  They  have  set  aside  the  rule  of  the 
ancient  faith  ”  (Eus.  v.  28). 

2  See  below.  The  authorities  are  Hippolytus  (vii.  23),  Eusebius 
(v.  28),  Epiphanius  (54). 

3  They  accuse  them  further  of  falsifying  and  corrupting  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  This  again  delights  Harnack,  who  finds  in  it  evidence  that 
the  party  pursued  grammatical  exegesis  and  textual  criticism  in  order  to 
correct  the  MSS.  of  Holy  Scripture.  “Instead  of  simply  accepting  or 
capriciously  trimming  the  traditional  text,  an  attempt  was  made  to  discover 
the  original.  How  unique  and  valuable  is  this  information  !  ”  (iii.  p.  25). 


92 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


explained,  is  that  the  Father  Himself  had  become  in¬ 
carnate  in  Christ,  and  suffered  in  and  with  Him.  It  is 
difficult  for  us  at  first  to  conceive  how  any  one  could 
maintain  this  identification,  seeing  that  Christ,  as  Son, 
is  definitely  distinguished  from  the  Father — could  hold, 
in  short,  that  Father  and  Son  were  the  same.  Yet  the 
theory  was  not  only  held,  but,  as  Tertullian  testifies, 
met  for  a  time  with  a  wide  measure  of  acceptance.1  It 
established  itself  in  Rome  during  several  episcopates, 
was  favoured  by  the  Roman  bishops,  and  had  an 
influential  following  among  the  laity.2  The  earliest 
representative  of  the  view  known  to  us  was  Praxeas,  a 
confessor  of  Asia  Minor,  and  strong  opponent  of  the 
Montanists.  He  came  to  Rome,  probably  in  the 
episcopate  of  Eleutherus  (170-90  A.D.),  and  not  only 
induced  the  latter  to  recall  letters  of  peace  he  had  sent 
out  on  behalf  of  the  Montanists,  but  persuaded  him  to 
adopt  his  own  views.  Thereby,  Tertullian  says,  he  did  a 
twofold  service  to  the  devil  at  Rome — “  he  drove  away 
prophecy,  and  he  brought  in  heresy  ;  he  put  to  flight 
the  Paraclete,  and  he  crucified  the  Father.”  3  Afterwards 
he  went  to  Carthage,  and  disseminated  his  views  there. 
Tertullian  claims  to  have  converted  him  ;  but  the  “  tares  ” 
he  had  sown  sprang  up,  and  gave  occasion  to  the 
African  Father’s  treatise.  Praxeas  represents  the  Patri- 
passian  view  in  its  crudest  form.  The  One  Almighty 
God,  the  Father,  he  taught,  has  literally  become  incarnate 
in  Jesus  Christ.  In  proof  he  alleged  the  passages  :  “  I 
am  God,  and  beside  me  there  is  none  else  ”  ; 4  “I  and 
my  Father  are  one  ”  ; 5  “  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath 
seen  the  Father”6 — treating  these  three  passages, 

1  Against  Praxeas ,  I  ;  Hippolytus,  ix.  i. 

2  Novatian  wrote  against  their  tenets  in  the  middle  of  the  century. 

3  Against  Praxeas ,  I.  4  Isaiah  xlv.  5. 

5  John  x.  30.  6  John  xiv.  9,  10. 


PRAXEAS  AND  NOETUS 


93 


Tertullian  says,  as  if  they  were  the  whole  Bible.  Pressed 
with  the  difficulty  of  how  the  Father  could  be  at  the 
same  time  the  Son,  he  took  refuge  in  the  distinction  that 
the  Spirit,  or  divine  element  in  Jesus,  was  the  Father, 
and  the  flesh  which  he  assumed  constituted  Him  the  Son. 
The  objection  that  the  theory  subjected  the  Father  to 
passivity  and  suffering  he  avoided  by  saying  that  the 
Father  suffered  in  sympathy  with  the  suffering  of  the 
flesh.  Tertullian  had  no  difficulty  in  showing  that,  under 
pretext  of  Monarchianism,  Praxeas  really  introduced  a 
new  duality.  The  flesh  is  the  humanity,  and  the  Father  is 
but  an  indwelling  Presence.  Son  and  Father,  while 
affirmed  to  be  one,  are  again  separated,  and  the  theory 
veers  round  into  a  dynamical  one.  A  much  subtler 
form  is  given  to  the  Patripassian  doctrine  by  another 
representative,  Noetus  of  Smyrna,  probably  under  the 
bishop  Victor  (190-200  A.D.).  His  school  was  active 
under  the  two  succeeding  episcopates — those  of  Zephy- 
rinus  (200-18  A.D.)  and  Callistus  (218-23  A.D.),  both 
of  whom  gave  countenance  to  the  error.1  The  peculiarity 
of  the  doctrine  of  Noetus  lies  in  his  bold  assertion  that 
the  Father,  by  a  change  in  His  mode  of  being,  literally 
became  His  own  Son,  He  is  quoted  as  saying,  “When, 
then,  the  Father  had  not  been  born,  He  was  justly  styled 
Father  ;  and  when  it  pleased  Him  to  undergo  genera¬ 
tion,  Fie  became  His  own  Son,  not  another’s.  .  .  .  On 
account  of  the  birth  that  had  taken  place,  He  confessed 
Himself  to  those  beholding  Him  a  Son,  no  doubt ;  yet 
Fie  made  no  secret,  to  those  who  could  comprehend 
Him,  of  His  being  a  Father.” 2  This  view  Noetus 
grounded  in  the  speculative  doctrine  that  it  lies  in  the 
nature  of  God  to  combine  in  Himself  contrary  modes 

1  Cf.  Hippolytus,  bk.  ix.  This  Father  also  wrote  a  special  work 
against  Noetus. 

2  ix.  5. 


94 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


of  being.  When  challenged  for  his  views  by  the 
Church,  he  boldly  defended  himself  by  saying,  “  What 
evil  am  I  doing,  in  glorifying  one  God  ?  ” 1  He  was, 
however,  excommunicated,  and  formed  a  separate 
school.  Still  another  name  may  be  mentioned  as 
representative  of  this  view — Beryllus  of  Bostra,  in 
Arabia,  whom  Origen  had  the  satisfaction  of  recovering 
from  his  errors.  Our  information  regarding  Beryllus  is 
very  scanty, — one  obscure  passage  in  Eusebius,2 — but  he 
seems  to  have  held  in  some  form  a  doctrine  of  divine 
self-limitation,  or,  as  he  calls  it,  “circumscription” 
(' 7repiypa(f)rj ) — analogous,  perhaps,  to  the  modern 
“kenosis.”  The  divine  in  Christ,  he  says,  was  not  a 
divinity  of  His  own  (lb la  Oeor 77?),  but  of  the  Father  ; 
and  this  divinity,  since  the  incarnation,  exists  in  a  cir¬ 
cumscription  of  being  which  did  not  belong  to  it  before. 

In  various  ways,  in  these  earlier  attempts,  we  have 
seen  the  idea  developing  itself  of  modes  in  the  divine 
existence.  We  are  now  to  see  this  idea  wrought  out 
in  a  more  complete  fashion  by  Sabellius.  Sabellianism 
has  its  advantage  over  previous  theories  in  that  it  seeks 
to  do  justice  to  the  Trinitarian  distinction  undeniably 
involved  in  the  New  Testament  revelation,  and  aims  at 
giving  a  rationale  of  that  distinction  in  harmony  with 
Monarchian  principles.  Briefly  stated,  its  solution  is — 
the  substitution  of  a  Trinity  of  revelation  for  an  im¬ 
manent  Trinity :  of  a  Trinity  of  modes  or  aspects  of 
the  one  divine  Being  for  a  Trinity  of  Persons. 
Sabellius,  the  author  of  the  heresy,  began  his  career  in 
Rome,  where  he  was  excommunicated  by  Callistus — 
himself  a  Patripassian.3  Thereafter  his  doctrine  had  a 
powerful  revival  in  North  Africa  about  260  A.D.,  and 
yet  another  in  the  fourth  century,  when  Athanasius, 

1  Against  Noetus,  1.  2  vi.  33.  3  Hippolytus,  ix.  6,  7. 


THE  SABELLIAN  TRINITY 


95 


Basil,  Hilary,  etc.,  were  drawn  into  the  controversy. 
So  far  as  its  general  principle  is  concerned,  Sabellianism 
has  had  many  modern  defenders  and  representatives, 
— e.g.,  Schleiermacher, — and  it  reappears  in  various 
popular  forms  without  always  being  recognised  for 
what  it  is.1  Our  sources  of  information  regarding 
its  ancient  form  are  fragmentary  and  defective,  but  the 
general  character  of  the  system  can  fairly  well  be 
made  out.2 

Sabellius  starts  with  God  in  His  absolute,  self¬ 
identical  unity — in  His  silent,  indrawn  life — prior  to 
all  movement  and  revelation,  and  this  he  calls  “  Monas.” 
But  the  Monas  does  not  remain  in  this  absolute,  self- 
enclosed  condition  :  it  unfolds  or  expands  itself— the 
silent  God  becomes  the  speaking  God.  In  this  transi¬ 
tion  to  revelation  or  speech  the  Monas  is  termed  “  Logos.” 
Logos,  on  this  reading  of  the  Sabellian  theory,  is  not 
the  Son,  but  the  principle  of  all  revelation — the  Monas 
in  the  act  of  revealing  or  unfolding  itself — God  speaking.3 
A  difficult  point  in  the  theory  is  the  place  left  for 
creation.  The  Sabellian  Trinity  of  Father,  Son,  and 
Spirit,  has  nothing  to  do  with  creation.  It  presupposes 
the  world  of  time  and  space,  and  relates  only  to  history. 
We  must  apparently  assume  some  more  general  act  of 
God’s  self-expansion,  within  which  His  special  acts  of 
revelation  then  take  place.4  The  system  properly 

1  Some  of  these  are  discussed  in  the  author’s  Christian  View  of  God 
and  the  World ,  Note  A  to  Lecture  VII. 

2  The  most  helpful  are  the  notices  in  Athanasius  in  his  Orations  (iii.  4, 
36  ;  iv.  2,  3,  10-25).  Elsewhere  in  Hippolytus,  Epiphanius,  Theodoret, 
Gregory  Nazianzen,  Basil,  etc. 

3  Thus  Schleiermacher,  Baur,  Dorner,  etc.  Neander  differs,  without, 
however,  giving  a  clear  view.  The  Logos  was  not  the  Son  before  the 
Incarnation  (Athanasius,  iv.  15,  21,  22).  Basil  (Ep.  210)  quotes  a  state¬ 
ment  that  God,  being  one,  was  transformed  as  need  arose,  and  dialectic- 
ally  revealed  Himself  (diaXlyeadaL)  now  as  Father,  now  as  Son,  now  as 
Holy  Spirit. 

4  Some  such  view  is  implied  in  Athanasius,  iv.  10-13. 


96 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


begins  when  we  reach  the  stadia  of  Bible  revelation. 
The  modes  of  God’s  revelation  Sabellius  illustrates  by 
various  metaphors — especially  by  the  Stoical  figures 
of  expansion  (7 tXcltvct/aos,  e/crao-cs)  and  contraction 
(. avaroXrj ),  or  by  the  arm  outstretched  and  taken  back 
again.  It  is  less  a  free  act  which  such  images  suggest 
than  a  rhythmical  movement  of  the  divine  nature — an 
alternate  expansion  and  contraction  of  the  Monas 
according  to  a  law  of  internal  necessity.  The  Triune 
revelation  belongs,  as  already  said,  altogether  to  the 
sphere  of  history,  and,  indeed,  religious  history.  God 
as  Father  is  made  known  in  the  Old  Covenant  and  the 
Law  ;l  God  as  Son  in  the  Incarnation  in  Jesus  Christ  ; 
God  as  Spirit  in  His  indwelling  in  the  hearts  of  believers 
in  the  Church.  Under  these  aspects,  it  is  pointed  out, 
God  enters  into  continually  closer  and  more  perfect 
relations  with  humanity.  God  had  still  an  outward 
relation  to  mankind  in  the  Law  ;  in  Christ  He  dwelt 
among  them  as  an  individual ;  in  the  Holy  Spirit  He  is 
the  animating  principle  in  the  souls  of  believers.  On 
the  nature  of  this  Trinity,  in  contrast  with  the  Church 
doctrine,  it  is  to  be  remarked — first,  that  it  is  only  a 
Trinity  of  revelation.  It  is  one  and  the  same  God — 
the  original  Monas — who  reveals  Himself  in  these  three 
forms,  or,  as  Sabellius  calls  them,  using  the  word  in  his 
own  sense,  TTpocrcvira — faces,  aspects,  manifestations. 
Second,  the  revelations  are  successive.  The  Trinity  is 

1  The  relation  of  the  Father  to  the  Monas  is  another  difficult  point  in 
the  Sabellian  system.  Strictly,  the  Father  was  only  one  of  the  three  forms 
of  manifestation  ( p-rosopa )  of  the  Monas,  yet  it  seems  likely  that  in  looser 
speech  the  Monas  was  also  sometimes  spoken  of  as  the  Father.  Cf.  Athan¬ 
asius,  iv.  13,  r4>  etc.  Another  name  given  to  the  Monas  was  Son-Father 
(vioTT&TTip).  Cf.  Athanasius,  On  Synods ,  16.  Athanasius  no  doubt  gives  • 
the  genuine  Sabellian  view  when  he  says  ( Orat .  iv.  13),  .“Then  it  is  no 
longer  proper  to  speak  of  the  Father  as  expanding,  but  the  Monas  is 
productive  of  three,  so  that  there  is  one  Monas,  then  Father,  Son,  and 
Spirit.” 


THE  SABELLIAN  TRINITY 


97 


a  successive,  not  a  simultaneous  one.  There  are  the 
successive  outstretchings  of  the  divine  arm,  and  one  has 
to  be  retracted  before  the  other  can  take  place.  The 
irpocrwirov  of  the  Father  ends  before  that  of  the  Son 
begins  ;  and  that  of  the  Son  ends  before  that  of  the 
Spirit  begins.  The  effect  of  this,  thirdly,  is,  that  the 
incarnation,  like  the  other  TrpocrcoTra ,  is  only  a  transient 
phenomenon.  As  God  had  ceased  to  be  Father  before  He 
became  Son,  so  He  must  cease  to  be  Son  before  He  can 
become  Spirit.  The  form  of  Son  comes  to  an  end  with 
the  resurrection  and  ascension.  Sabellius  is  even 
reported  to  have  taught  that  the  humanity  of  Christ 
was  then  reabsorbed  in  the  divine.1  Thus  the  per¬ 
manent  significance  of  Christ’s  person  is  altogether  lost. 
We  know  nothing  of  what  views  Sabellius  held  of 
redemption,  but  it  may  be  inferred  from  the  principles 
of  his  system  that  the  goal  of  the  whole  development 
is  that  the  finite  creation  shall  be  reabsorbed  in  Deity, 
who  thus  again  becomes  all  in  all. 

Reviewing  the  Sabellian  system  as  a  whole,  we 
cannot  but  see  that  it  had  considerable  comprehensive¬ 
ness  and  breadth,,  and  was  fitted  to  prove  a  formidable 
rival  to  the  Church  doctrine.  It  gave  Monarchianism 
a  developed  character,  and  perhaps  wrought  out  its 
principle  in  as  plausible  a  form  as  any  it  has  since 
assumed.  It  compelled  the  Church  clearly  to  face  the 
hypothesis  of  a  modal  Trinity  as  an  alternative  to  its 
own  doctrine.  Yet  it  is  evident  also  that  the  theory, 
in  the  shape  it  received  from  Sabellius,  was  anything 
but  truly  Christian.  Its  basis,  to  begin  with,  was 
Pantheistic — a  Pantheism,  as  the  Fathers  saw,  akin  to 
that  of  the  Stoics  ;  it  failed,  moreover,  at  every  point 
to  do  justice  to  the  facts  of  the  Christian  revelation. 
It  is  not  in  the  Old  Testament,  or  as  Legislator,  that 

1  Epiphanius,  ii.  62,  1, 

H 


98 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


God  is  revealed  peculiarly  as  Father.1  But  waiving 
this,  Father  and  Son  in  this  theory  have  no  relation  to 
each  other.  The  Father  is  not  the  Father  of  the  Son  ; 
the  Son  is  not  the  Son  of  the  Father.  It  is  a  con¬ 
tradiction  of  the  Christian  view  to  speak  of  the  Father 
as  non-existent  since  the  appearance  of  the  Son  ; 2  and 
still  more  to  represent  the  incarnation  as  only  a 
temporary  appearance.  The  whole  Christian  hope  is 
bound  up  with  faith  in  the  continued  existence  of  the 
Redeemer.  To  speak  of  the  union  of  the  Godhead 
with  Him  as  coming  to  an  end  is  to  dissolve  the 
connection  of  believers  with  Christ,  and  destroy  the 
existence  of  the  Church  itself.  In  comparison  with 
these,  other  objections  are  of  minor  account.  It  is  an  un¬ 
deniable  weakness  in  the  theory  that  it  fails  to  subsume 
all  God’s  revelations  under  this  form  of  Trinity,  and 
gives  us  only  a  chapter  out  of  a  much  larger  book — 
leaves  out  of  account,  in  particular,  the  initial  mani¬ 
festation  of  God  in  creation,  and  the  whole  providential 
manifestation  of  God  in  history  outside  Israel.  God’s 
activity  in  creation  and  in  the  general  government  of 
the  world  is  plainly  not  suspended  while  He  is  mani¬ 
festing  Himself  in  the  dispensational  Trinitarian  modes. 
This  touches  the  theory  more  nearly  than  we  might 
suppose,  for  it  breaks  up  the  idea  which  lies  at  the 
foundation  of  the  system,  that  God  can  exist  only  in 
a  single  mode  or  'rrpoacdTrov  at  a  time.  It  demonstrates, 
on  the  contrary,  that  God  can  reveal  Himself  simultane¬ 
ously  in  different  modes,  and  does  so. 

I  have  now,  as  a  final  step,  to  ask  you  to  look  at 

1  This  applies  also  to  many  modern  theories,  which  identify  the  Father 
with  the  Creator  or  Lawgiver. 

2  It  was  no  doubt  the  perception  of  this  difficulty  which  led  to  the 
identification  of  Father  and  Monas  already  referred  to.  But  this  breaks 
up  the  consistency  of  the  whole  theory. 


PA  UL  OF  SAMOS  A  TA 


99 


the  culmination  of  this  whole  Monarchian  movement  in 
Paul  of  Samosata,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  260-70  A.D.,  who 
represents  the  phase  of  dynamical  Monarchianism. 
Reflection  will  readily  suggest  to  us  how  near  akin, 
without  intending  it,  the  Sabellian  view  of  the  person 
of  Christ  is  to  the  Ebionitic,  and  how  easily  the  one 
passes  into  the  other.  The  point  of  difficulty  in  the 
Sabellian  theory  lies  in  knowing  what  to  do  with  the 
humanity  of  Christ  after  the  ascension.  The  supposi¬ 
tion  of  its  absorption  when  the  irpoacovrov  of  the  Son 
comes  to  an  end  is  too  violent  to  be  long  entertained  ; 
the  tendency,  therefore,  is  to  represent  the  divinity  and 
humanity  as  separable,  i.e.y  to  connect  the  two  only 
dynamically.  And  this  brings  us  back  to  Ebionitism. 
It  is  not,  however,  the  logical  issues  only  of  the 
Monarchian  movement  which  we  see  illustrated  in  Paul 
of  Samosata  :  in  his  person  also  we  have  a  conspicuous 
example  of  the  essentially  irreligious  spirit  which 
was  a  marked  feature  of  the  development.  The 
Ebionitic  Monarchianism  of  the  early  Church  was  a 
shallow  product  at  the  best,  with  hardly  a  trace  of 
religious  depth  or  earnestness  in  its  course.  In  this 
respect  Paul  of  Samosata  is  its  classical  representative 
— its  born  high  priest.  The  chief  source  of  our 
information  regarding  him  is  a  circular  letter  sent  out 
by  the  bishops  and  clergy  who  condemned  him  ; 1  and, 
after  every  allowance  has  been  made  for  party  prejudice, 
it  is  a  most  extraordinary  picture  which  it  presents  to 
us.  Discarding  the  grave  and  modest  deportment 
which  became  a  Christian  bishop,  Paul  seems  to  have 
lived  in  a  style  of  ostentatious  splendour,  combining 
with  his  ecclesiastical  office  a  civil  magistracy  which 

1  Eusebius,  vii.  30  ;  cf.  Gibbon,  Decline  and  Fall ,  ch.  xvi.  The 
cautious  Neander  remarks  that  we  cannot  refuse  the  testimony  in  this  case : 
Harnack  lightly  brushes  it  aside. 


IOO 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


brought  him  a  large  salary.  By  this  and  by  unblush¬ 
ing  ecclesiastical  maladministration,  he  rose  to  a 
position  of  inordinate  wealth.  His  pride,  luxury,  and 
oppression  made  him  odious  to  his  brethren.  He  was 
as  vainglorious  as  he  was  rich  ;  had  erected  for  his  use 
a  lofty  tribunal  and  throne  ;  appeared  in  public  with  a 
crowd  of  attendants  making  way  before  him  ;  strutted 
through  the  Forum  reading  his  letters  and  dictating 
answers.  But  his  behaviour  in  church  was  most 
offensive  of  all.  He  banished  from  the  Church  the 
hymns  sung  in  honour  of  Christ,  and  had  hymns 
composed  in  his  own  honour  and  sung  by  a  choir  of 
women  at  the  Easter  festival.  His  preaching  was  of  a 
theatrical  description,  accompanied  by  extravagant 
gesticulations  and  stampings ;  and  the  people  were 
encouraged  to  applaud  with  the  waving  of  handker¬ 
chiefs,  and  were  rebuked  if  they  did  not.  His  private 
behaviour  was  equally  scandalous.  Yet  his  wealth  and 
power  were  such,  owing  to  the  favour  of  Queen  Zenobia, 
that  few  dared  to  touch  him. 

This  was  the  man,  then,  in  whom  Monarchianism 
now  came  to  its  head.  His  system  is  a  development 
of  that  of  the  earlier  representatives  of  Unitarian 
Monarchianism — the  Theodotians  and  Artemonites — 
but  differed  from  theirs  in  that  he  held  that  Christ, 
commencing  as  man,  was  raised  by  progressive  de¬ 
velopment  ( irpotcoTTr) )  to  the  dignity  of  Son  of  God, 
obtaining  for  His  excellence  divine  rank.1  The  Logos 
in  God,  he  held,  was  simply  what  reason  is  in  man. 
Christ  was  mere  man  :  He  was,  as  Paul  expressed  it, 
“  from  below  ”  (/ cdrcoOev ).  He  does  not,  however,  seem 
to  have  denied  the  supernatural  birth.  The  union  of 
the  Logos  with  Christ  did  not  differ,  except  in  degree, 

1  Cf.  Epiphanius  (65),  Eusebius,  etc. 


PAUL’S  DYNAMICAL  MONA  R  CHI  A  NISM 


ioi 


from  his  union  with  any  other  man.  In  degree,  never¬ 
theless,  it  did  differ,  for  the  power  of  the  divine 
penetrated  Christ’s  humanity  as  it  did  that  of  no  other. 
This  indwelling  of  the  Logos,  or  divine  wisdom,  or 
power  in  Christ  is  one,  not  of  person,  but  of  quality 
(fcara  n toiottjtci).  Through  His  interpenetration  by 
the  divine  power  Christ  advanced  progressively  till 
He  became  God  ( TedeoTrocfjcrOcu ).  He  is  raised  to 
divine  rank  —  from  man  became  God  (ef  avOpcoTrwv 
yeyove  0eos).  Paul  can  therefore  speak  of  an  apotheosis 
— a  deification  of  Christ ;  but  deity  or  Godhead  here 
only  means  that  Christ,  for  His  peculiar  merit,  was 
deemed  worthy  by  God  of  divine  honours — not  that 
He  became  God  by  nature.  It  was  a  Godhead  of 
rank,  not  of  essence.  It  was  deification  by  grace.  But 
this  view  the  Church  emphatically  rejected.1  Two 
influential  Synods  (264,  269  A.D.)  were  convened  at 
Antioch  to  deal  with  it.  At  the  first  Paul  succeeded 
in  imposing  on  the  bishops  by  plausible  subtleties  ;  at 
the  second  his  sophistries  were  exposed,  and  his  views 
were  definitively  condemned.  It  was,  nevertheless, 
three  years  afterwards  before  the  orthodox  party  was 
able  to  dispossess  him.  A  point  of  interest  in  connec¬ 
tion  with  this  Synod  (269  A.D.)  is  that  it  rejected  the 
term  homoouszos  (op,oovcno$),  which  later  became  the 
watchword  of  Nicene  orthodoxy,  because  of  its  abuse 
by  Paul.  This  again  is  evidence  that  in  these  discus¬ 
sions  it  was  not  terms — Greek  or  other — the  Church 
was  fighting  for,  but  things. 

I  have  been  particular  in  stating  this  view  of 
Paul  of  Samosata  mainly  for  the  reason  that  it  is  in 
principle  not  different  from  many  theories  at  present 

1  This  fact  refutes  the  notion  that  it  was  familiarity  with  the  apotheosis- 
idea  of  heathenism  which  led  to  the  ascription  of  divinity  to  Christ. 


102 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


current  among  us — is,  indeed,  the  type  of  dynamical 
theories  for  all  time.  We  have  seen  the  essence  of  it 
to  be  that,  while  in  nature  only  man,  Christ  is  raised  to 
Godhead — an  honorary  Godhead — through  the  working 
of  a  divine  power  within  Him.  The  relation  of  the 
Godhead  to  the  humanity  is  a  dynamical  one  ;  but  it 
ends  in  the  exaltation  of  Christ  to  divine  rank.  This 
accords  with  a  tendency  quite  prevalent  in  recent 
theology  to  assign  to  Christ  the  predicate  “  Godhead,” 
while  not  really  recognising  in  Him  more  than  man.1 
The  dilemma  in  which  this  whole  class  of  theories  is 
placed  is  obvious.  If  true  Godhead  is  ascribed  to 
Christ  He  cannot  be  only,  or  merely,  man  ;  if  con¬ 
versely  Christ  is  held  to  be  in  nature  and  person  man 
only,  however  exalted  by  possession  of  the  divine 
Spirit,  it  is  not  in  a  real,  but  simply  figurative  sense, 
that  He  can  ever  be  spoken  of  as  raised  to  Godhead. 
Godhead  is  not  a  thing  that  can  begin  in  time,  or  be 
conferred  as  a  degree  of  honour  on  a  created  being. 
This  view,  therefore,  under  all  its  disguises,  remains  a 
Unitarian  one.  If  the  supposition  could  be  entertained 
— though  contrary  to  all  right  reason — that  a  Being 
not  originally  divine  could  by  development  attain  to 
the  rank  of  Godhead,  this  would  land  us  in  the  equally 
extraordinary  result,  from  which  even  a  theory  like 
Rothe’s  2  is  not  free,  that  since  the  incarnation  a  new 
person  has  literally  been  added  to  the  Godhead.  This 
surely  is  reduction  to  absurdity. 

1  E.g. ,  Schultz,  Die  Gottheit  Christi.  Lipsius,  Beyschlag,  and  many 
Ritschlians,  speak  in  the  same  way. 

“  C f.  Christian  View  of  God  and  the  World ,  Lecture  VI. 


IV 


Same  Subject  Continued — Arian  and  Macedonian 
Controversies  (4TH  Century) 


“  God  gives  man  nothing  in  a  finished  state.  All  His  gifts  are  so  bestowed 
that  man  shall  have  abundant  work  to  do  with  them.  This  is  specially  true, 
not  only  of  man  himself,  but  also  of  the  Bible.” — Rothe. 

“  For  if  he  who  speaks  of  two  Hellenises,  therefore  he  who  speaks  of  one 
Sabellianises.  But  this  is  not  so  !  God  forbid.  For  as  he  who  says 
‘  Father  and  Son  are  two  ’  confesses  one  God  ;  so  let  him  who  says  ‘  One 
God,’  think  of  two,  Father  and  Son,  as  being  one  in  the  Godhead.” — 
Athanasius. 

‘  ‘  One  need  not  be  an  orthodox  trinitarian  to  see  that  if  Arianism  had  had 
its  way,  the  theology  of  Christianity  would  have  become  of  a  kind  in  which 
no  philosopher,  who  had  outgrown  the  demonism  of  ancient  systems,  could 
for  a  moment  acquiesce.” — T.  H.  Green. 


LECTURE  IV 


Same  Subject  continued — Arian  and  Macedonian  Controversies 

(Fourth  Century). 

The  Monarchian  controversies  of  the  third  century 
on  the  Trinity  and  the  supreme  divinity  of  Christ  were 
but  preludes  to  the  great  pitched  battle  of  the  Arian 
controversy  in  the  fourth.  The  fundamental  question  at 
issue  was  how  these  peculiar  assertions  of  the  Christian 
faith  were  to  be  reconciled  with  the  unity  of  God  ;  above 
all,  how  the  relation  of  Christ  to  the  Father  was  to  be 
conceived  of,  so  as,  on  the  one  hand,  not  to  compromise 
His  true  divine  dignity,  and,  on  the  other,  not  to 
endanger  the  divine  Monarchia.  This  question  could 
only  be  answered,  as  it  was  answered,  through  the 
stating  of  all  possible  alternatives,  the  testing  of  each, 
and  the  rejection  of  such  as  were  found  inadequate. 
We  are  to  see  this  process  exemplified  with  regard  to 
the  deity  of  the  Son  and  Spirit  in  the  controversy  now 
to  be  reviewed. 

Ere  the  Arian  controversy  had  broken  out,  a 
decisive  change  had  taken  place  in  the  external  fortunes 
of  the  Church.  The  struggle,  prolonged  through  three 
centuries  with  the  forces  of  a  persecuting  paganism,  had 
issued  in  the  decisive  defeat  of  the  latter.  In  313  A.D., 
following  on  the  last  terrible  persecution  by  Diocletian, 
came  the  edict  of  Milan,  giving  universal  toleration, 


io6 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


and  in  323  A.D.  Constantine,  having  overthrown  his 
last  rival  Licinius,  became  sole  ruler  in  the  empire. 
The  next  year,  324  A.D.,  saw  the  so-called  establishment 
of  the  Christian  religion,  an  event  which,  outwardly 
favourable,  introduced  a  new  factor  into  the  history  of 
the  development  of  dogma — one  nearly  always  hurtful 
and  disturbing  —  I  mean  the  exercise  of  imperial 
authority.  Ere,  however,  this  fateful  step  was  taken, 
the  Church  was  involved  in  the  controversy  we  are  to 
study. 

It  was  not,  however,  in  external  respects  only  that  a 
change  had  taken  place  in  the  condition  of  the  Church. 
The  Church  triumphed  because  it  was  already  internally 
the  strongest  force  in  the  empire.  Even  in  the  third 
century  it  was  formidable — compactly  organised,  ably 
directed,  influential  not  only  in  numbers,  but  in  the 
rank  of  many  of  its  members.1  Its  recognition  by 
Constantine  in  the  fourth  was  but  the  acknowledgment 
of  a  preponderance  of  influence  already  won.  In  an 
intellectual  respect  the  advance  was  equally  great. 
Theological  tendencies  were  assuming  distinct  shape, 
and  marked  contrasts  had  begun  to  develop  themselves 
in  the  schools.  One  such  contrast  must  be  referred  to 
here  for  the  sake  of  the  profound  influence  it  exercised 
on  after  theology,  that,  viz.,  between  the  schools  of 
Alexandria  and  Antioch.  The  commencement  of  the 
Alexandrian  school  has  already  been  described.  Its 
chief  representatives  during  the  fourth  century  were, 
first,  the  renowned  Athanasius,  and  after  him  the  three 
great  Cappadocian  Fathers,  Basil,  Gregory  of  Nazianzus, 
and  Basil’s  brother,  Gregory  of  Nyssa.  Throughout  it 
retained  the  liberal,  speculative,  idealising  character 
imparted  to  it  by  its  master,  Origen  ;  but  in  its  newer 

1  See  the  evidence  in  my  Neglected  Factors ,  etc.  (Lect.  II.),  on  the 
extent  to  which  Christianity  had  permeated  the  higher  ranks  of  society. 


SCHOOLS  OF  ALEXANDRIA  AND  ANTIOCH  107 


form  it  kept  clear  of,  and  overcame  Origen’s  subordina- 
tionism.1  The  Antiochian  school  had  opposite  character¬ 
istics.  It  was  sober,  literal,  grammatical,  rational ;  in 
Coleridge’s  phrase,  was  a  school  of  the  understanding 
rather  than  of  the  reason.  We  have  seen  the  influence 
exercised  in  Antioch  by  Paul  of  Samosata,  and  the 
leaven  of  his  teachings,  no  doubt,  continued  to  operate 
after  his  removal.  The  true  founder  of  the  Antiochian 
school,  however,  was  Lucian,  martyred  in  3  1 1  A.D.,  who 
stamped  on  it  its  predominant  exegetical,  and  in  part 
rationalising,  character.2  From  this  school  came  Arius 
and  most  of  the  leaders  of  the  party  who  supported 
him.3  Professor  Harnack  goes  further,  and  gives  a 
very  definite  and  detailed  account  of  the  opinions  of 
Lucian,  of  which  I  will  only  say  that  it  seems  to  me 
largely  hypothetical,  and  not  borne  out  by  the  author¬ 
ities.4  To  Harnack  Lucian  is  simply  the  Arius  before 
Arius.  He  adopted  the  Christology  of  Paul  of  Samosata, 
and  combined  with  it  the  Logos  doctrine.  His  doctrine 
is  Paul’s,  with  the  difference  that,  instead  of  a  man,  it 
is  a  created  heavenly  being  who  becomes  God.  The 
stress  is  laid  on  creation  out  of  nothing,  and  on  deifica¬ 
tion  by  progressive  development.  There  is,  however, 
no  evidence  that  I  know  of  that  Lucian  was  a  disciple 
of  Paul  of  Samosata,5  or  that  he  held  that  the  Logos 

1  It  kept  free  also  from  most  of  Origen’s  heretical  peculiarities  (eternal 
creation,  pre-existence  of  souls,  etc.),  though  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  nearest  to 

Origen  in  spirit,  follows  him  in  his  restitutionism. 

3  A  good  characterisation  of  the  school  is  by  Neander,  iii.  p.  497  ff. 
(Bohn’s  ed.).  Distinguished  later  representatives  were  Diodorus  of 
Tarsus,  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  Chrysostom,  and  Theodoret  (see  Lecture 
VI.). 

3  Arius  calls  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  his  “  fellow- Lucianist  ”  (Theod. 
Ecc.  Hist.  i.  5).  Philostorgius,  the  Arian  historian,  gives  a  list  of  Lucian’s 
pupils  in  this  party  (ii.  14). 

4  iv.  pp.  3-7  (E.T.). 

5  It  goes  against  this  connection  that  Eusebius,  the  historian,  who 
acted  with  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  and  other  friends  of  Arius,  speaks  in 


108  THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 

was  created  out  of  nothing,  or  that  Christ  became  God 
by  progressive  development.1  That  his  views  tended 
in  some  way  to  Arianism  we  may  indeed  fairly  con¬ 
clude  ;  it  is  certain,  further,  that  he  stood  with  his 
school  during  three  episcopates  outside  the  communion 
of  the  Church,  and  was  only  reconciled  to  it  shortly 
before  his  death.2  This,  however,  hardly  warrants  us 
in  attributing  to  him  so  fixed  a  type  of  doctrine  as  that 
just  indicated. 

I.  The  Arian  dispute  took  its  origin  about  318  A.D. 
in  Alexandria,  where  Arius,  a  leading  presbyter,  had 
come  into  conflict  with  his  bishop  on  the  subject  of  the 
Trinity.3  Arius  is  described  to  us  as  a  tall,  spare  man, 
ascetic  in  habits  and  dress,  with  long,  tangled  hair,  and 
a  curious  practice  of  twisting  about,  but  withal  of 
fascinating  manners  and  address,  and  not  without  a 
considerable  mixture  of  craft  and  vanity.4  Of  this  last 
the  introduction  to  his  book  called  the  Thalia — I  am 
that  celebrated  man  who  has  suffered  many  things  for 
God’s  glory,  and  being  taught  of  God,  has  obtained 
wisdom  and  knowledge  ”  r> — is  sufficient  witness.  Not¬ 
withstanding  his  apparent  smoothness,  he  was  a  man 
of  strong  and  vehement  passions.  He  soon  gathered 
round  him  a  multitude  of  supporters,  and  was  unwearied 
in  the  dissemination  of  his  views.  The  condemnation 


the  history  in  the  highest  terms  of  Lucian  (viii.  13  ;  ix.  6),  but  gives  the 
most  condemnatory  accounts  of  Paul  and  his  doctrines  (vii.  27,  29,  30). 
Against  this  the  vague  expression  of  Alexander,  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  in 
an  epistle  against  Arius — “Whom  Lucian,  having  succeeded”  ( dia ■ 
5e^dfj.evos),  etc.  (Theod.  i.  4) — is  hardly  decisive. 

1  Nothing  of  this  kind  is  suggested,  but  the  opposite  is  shown  by  the 
the  creed  ascribed  to  Lucian  at  the  Council  of  Antioch,  241  A.n. 

2  Theodoret,  i.  4. 

3  The  accounts  in  the  histories  vary  as  to  the  precise  circumstances  of 
origin  of  the  quarrel,  but  admit  of  being  readily  harmonised. 

4  Cf.  Stanley,  Eastern  Church ,  iii.  5.  5  In  Athan.  Orations ,  i.  5. 


IMPORTANCE  OF  A  RIAN  CONTROVERSY  109 


of  his  opinions  by  a  local  council  (321  A.D.)  only  fanned 
the  flame  of  controversy.  Feeling  on  both  sides  became 
intensely  keen.  Each  party  sought  to  strengthen  itself 
by  inviting  the  support  of  influential  bishops  ;  the  whole 
Church  was  soon  in  turmoil ;  the  very  theatres  resounded 
with  ridicule  of  the  disputes  of  the  Christians.1  Con¬ 
stantine,  whose  chief  anxiety  was  for  the  peace  of  his 
empire,  was  deeply  chagrined  at  this  unexpected  out¬ 
break  about  matters,  as  he  regarded  them,  of  trifling 
importance,  and  wrote  urgently  to  both  Alexander  and 
Arius,  beseeching  them  to  exercise  mutual  forbearance. 
When  this  failed,  and  his  eyes,  perhaps,  had  become 
more  open  to  the  gravity  of  the  issues,  he  conceived  the 
idea — by  an  inspiration  of  Heaven,  as  he  thought — of 
summoning  a  council  of  the  whole  Christian  world  to 
decide  the  matter. 

The  controversy  thus  opened  affords  a  favourite 
text  for  those  who  are  disposed  to  make  light  of  theo¬ 
logical  controversy  generally.  The  whole  contention, 
this  class  would  have  us  believe,  was  a  hopeless  logo¬ 
machy — a  dispute  about  trifles,  in  which  the  essence  of 
Christianity  was  in  no  way  involved.  Gibbon  has  made 
merry  over  the  whole  world  convulsed  about  a  diph¬ 
thong.2  So,  for  that  matter,  it  is  only  a  single  letter 
which  makes  the  difference  between  “  theist  ”  and 
“  atheist !  ”  Profounder  minds  judge  the  controversy 
very  differently.  Harnack,  despite  his  theory  of  the 
Greek  origin  of  dogma,  makes  it  very  clear  that  it  was 
Christianity  itself  that  was  at  stake.  “  Only,”  he  says, 
“  as  cosmologists  are  the  Arians  monotheists,  as  theo¬ 
logians  and  in  religion  they  are  polytheists.  Deep 
contradictions  lie  in  the  background  :  a  Son  who  is  no 
Son  ;  a  Logos  who  is  no  Logos  ;  a  monotheism  which 
1  Cf.  Socrates,  i.  6.  2  Decline  and  Fall  xxi. 


I  IO 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


does  not  exclude  polytheism  ;  two  or  three  ousias ,  who 
are  to  be  worshipped,  while  still  only  one  is  really 
distinguished  from  the  creation  ;  an  indefinable  nature 
which  first  becomes  God  when  it  becomes  man,  and 
which  still  is  neither  God  nor  man.  .  .  .  The  opponents 
were  right ;  this  doctrine  leads  back  to  heathenism. 
The  orthodox  doctrine  has,  on  the  contrary,  its  abiding 
worth  in  the  upholding  of  the  faith  that  in  Christ  God 
Himself  has  redeemed  man,  and  led  them  into  His 
fellowship.  This  conviction  of  faith  was  saved  by 
Athanasius  against  a  doctrine  which  did  not  under¬ 
stand  the  inner  nature  of  religion  generally,  which 
sought  in  religion  only  teaching,  and  ultimately  found 
its  satisfaction  in  an  empty  dialectic.”  1 

The  historical  significance  of  Arianism  lay,  as 
I  have  already  hinted,  in  the  fact  that  it  brought 
to  expression  certain  tendencies  already  working  in 
theology,  and  compelled  the  Church  to  face  them  and 
give  judgment  upon  them.  We  saw  how,  in  the 
preceding  period,  there  were  influences  tending  to  exalt 
the  divine  “  Monarchia  ”  at  the  expense  of  the  distinct 
hypostasis  of  the  Son  ;  how,  on  the  other  hand,  as  the 
result  of  Origen’s  influence,  there  was  a  strong  current 
of  subordinationism  on  the  part  of  those  who  held  that 
hypostasis.  This  tendency,  I  remarked,  was  strengthened 
by — if  it  had  not  its  main  cause  in — the  Platonising 
way  of  regarding  God  as  the  self-caused,  unspeakably 

1  Grundriss,  i.  p.  14 1  ;  cf.  Hist,  of  Dogma,  iv.  p.  41  (E.T.).  Mr. 
Froude  tells  us  that  in  earlier  years  Mr.  Carlyle  had  spoken  contemptu¬ 
ously  of  the  Athanasian  controversy,  of  the  Christian  world  torn  to  pieces 
over  a  diphthong,  but  later  told  him  that  he  perceived  Christianity  itself 
to  have  been  at  stake.  If  the  Arians  had  won  it  would  have  dwindled 
away  to  a  legend  ( Life  in  London ,  ii.  p.  462).  I  may  add  the  judgment 
of  Professor  Schultz  in  his  Gottheit  Chris  ti.  “The  Arian  Christology,” 
he  says,  “is  inwardly  the  most  untenable  and  dogmatically  worthless  of 
all  the  Christologies  that  meet  us  in  the  history  of  dogma”  (cf.  ii.  p.  65). 


HISTORICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  ARIANISM  in 


exalted,  incomprehensible  Being,  who  alone  was  God 
in  the  highest  sense.  This  led,  first,  to  God  being  put 
at  an  infinite  distance  from  His  creation  ;  next,  to  the 
necessity  of  interposing  some  middle  being  to  effect 
the  transition  to  the  latter ;  third,  to  the  Son  who 
was  begotten  for  this  purpose  being  put  in  the  second 
rank,  as  not  having  those  attributes  which  were  supposed 
to  constitute  absolute  Godhead.  Subordinationist  ten¬ 
dencies  of  this  kind  were  active  in  the  Church  before 
Arius,  e.g.,  in  Lactantius,  in  Eusebius  of  Caesarea, 
probably  in  Lucian  ;  but  it  was  only  when  definite 
expression  was  given  to  them,  and  their  logical  conse¬ 
quences  were  fairly  drawn  out  by  Arius,  that  their 
import  was  fully  seen.  In  brief,  Origen  had  spoken 
of  the  Son  as  occupying  a  secondary  relation  to  the 
Father,  while  at  the  same  time  upholding  His  eternal 
generation  and  identity  of  essence  with  God.  These 
two  tendencies  could  not  but  come  ultimately  into 
collision.  If  the  identity  of  nature  with  the  Father  was 
maintained,  full  and  true  Godhead  must  be  granted  to 
the  Son,  and  the  subordinationist  elements,  so  far  as  in 
conflict  with  this  conception,  must  be  eliminated.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  subordinationist  standpoint  was  ad¬ 
hered  to,  in  combination  with  the  abstract,  Platonising 
view  of  God,  the  Arian  doctrine  was  the  logical  outcome. 

It  is  not  so  much  my  object  to  enter  into  the 
details  of  the  history  of  this  controversy — which  my 
limits  do  not  permit — as  rather  to  bring  out  the  great 
issues  involved,  the  principles  at  work,  the  logic,  as  I 
venture  to  call  it,  of  the  movement.  It  will  help  to  this 
end  if,  before  looking  at  the  proceedings  of  the  Nicene 
Council,  we  glance  at  the  parties  involved,  and  at  the 
positions  they  severally  occupy.  This  will  show  with 
tolerable  clearness  the  course  which  the  historical 
development  was  bound  to  follow. 


I  12 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


By  the  time  of  the  opening  of  the  council  three  parties 
had  shaped  themselves  with  some  definiteness. 

First,  the  Athanasian  party — to  name  Athanasius 
as  its  outstanding  representative  —  was  the  only  one 
of  the  three  that  had  a  perfectly  unambiguous  ground. 
The  Son,  in  its  view,  was  of  the  same  essence  (6/10- 
ovcnos)  with  the  Father — very  God  of  very  God.  In 
this  view  the  genuine  Christian  interest  was  conserved 
which  Athanasius  constantly  came  back  on,  viz.,  that  no 
creature,  but  only  God,  can  unite  us  with  God.!  He  was 
not  less  clear  on  the  other  point  that  a  true  incarnation 
is  needed  in  order  to  redemption.  Only  the  divine  Son 
could  atone  for  the  sins  of  the  world.'1 2  In  thus  bringing 
the  deity  of  the  Son  into  direct  connection  with  man’s 
salvation,  he  takes  a  step  beyond  the  Fathers  who 
connected  it  primarily  with  the  creation,  and  in  some 
of  his  positions  well-nigh  anticipates  Anselm.3  Yet  he 
invariably  contended  that  he  introduced  nothing  new, 
but  was  defending  what  had  always  been  the  faith  of 
the  Church.4 

At  the  opposite  pole  to  the  Athanasian  was,  second, 
the  pure  Arian  party,  led  at  first  by  Arius,  and  at  a 


1  Cf.  Orations,  ii.  69,  and  passim.  Harnack  says,  “Is  the  divine 
Being,  who  has  appeared  on  earth,  and  has  united  man  with  God, 
identical  with  the  highest  divine  Being  who  rules  heaven  and  earth, 
or  is  He  a  half  divine  Being  ?  That  was  the  decisive  question  in  the 
Arian  controversy  53  ( Grundriss ,  i.  p.  136). 

2  Cf.  specially  his  Incarnation  of  the  Word,  written  before  the  Arian 
controversy.  Harnack  says,  “The  theology  and  Christology  of  Athan¬ 
asius  are  rooted  in  the  thought  of  redemption  ”  (Hist,  of  Dogma ,  iv.  p.  26). 

3  Cf.  Harnack,  iv.  29  ;  Dorner,  Person  of  Christ,  ii.  pp.  248-60. 

4  Cf.  Harnack,  p.  45.  “Athanasius  always  appealed  to  the  collective 
testimony  of  the  Church  in  support  of  the  doctrine  which  he  defended,” 
etc.  So,  on  p.  22,  of  the  Bishop  Alexander  :  “Conscious  that  he  is  con¬ 
tending  for  nothing  less  than  the  divinity  of  Christ,  the  universal  faith  of 
the  Church.”  The  doctrine  of  Arius,  on  the  other  hand,  is  new  (p.  41). 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ARIUS 


ii  3 

subsequent  stage  in  the  controversy  by  Aetius  and 
Eunomius  (whence  in  the  later  Fathers  the  name  Euno- 
mians ).  The  general  procedure  of  Arius  is  thus 
characterised  by  Dorner  :  “  In  the  sphere  of  the  relative, 
his  movements  are  easy  and  skilful ;  in  the  handling 
of  the  lower  categories  of  logic  he  evinces  dialectic 
address,  but  he  applies  them  as  a  standard  to  every¬ 
thing,  and  is  unable  to  rise  to  anything  higher.  He  is 
entirely  destitute  of  the  strictly  speculative  faculty.”  1 
In  his  treatment  the  distinction  of  the  Son  from  the 
Father  was  pushed  to  its  extreme  logical  limit.  His 
starting-point  was  from  the  term  Son,  which  he  held 
necessarily  implied  the  priority  of  the  Father.  The 
Son,  he  taught,  was  a  created  being — created  “  out  of 
nothing.”  He  was  the  first  and  greatest  of  the  creatures, 
and  was  brought  into  existence  that  through  Him  the 
world  might  be  created.  He  was  not  eternal  ;  was 
not  of  divine  substance  ;  was  mutable,  i.e.,  could  fall 
into  sin  ;  was  not  able  to  comprehend  the  Father.  It 
was  on  the  ground  of  His  foreseen  merits  as  man  that 
He  received  the  names  of  Logos,  Son,  etc’.2  The  Son, 
the  Arians  granted,  is  pre-temporal,  before  all  ages  ; 
but  this  was  because  they  held  that  time  began  with  the 
creation  of  the  world.  This  idea  they  expressed  by  the 
formula,  “  There  was  when  He  was  not  ”  (fjv  ore  oincrjv ).3 

Intermediate  between  the  two  parties  now  described 
stood  a  third,  the  Semi-Arian  or  subordination ist  party, 
distinguished  from  the  Athanasian  by  their  rejection  of 

1  ii-  p-  239. 

2  On  the  opinions  of  Arius,  see  Athanasius,  Orations ,  i.  5,  etc.  ; 
Socrates,  i.  6.  Arius  embodied  his  views  in  his  Thalia ,  and  in  songs, 
set  to  popular  airs,  which  were  diffused  among  the  people  ( Philostorgius , 
ii.  2). 

3  Harnack  says,  “  With  Arius  the  Son  belongs  to  the  world  side, 
while,  with  Athanasius,  He,  as  belonging  to  God,  stands  over  against  the 
world  ”  (iv.  p.  29). 

I 


1 14 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  term  o/ioovctlos.  They  would  go  no  farther  than 
the  vague  statement  that  the  Son  resembled  the  Father, 
or  was  “  of  like  substance  ”  (o/aoiovo-los)1  with  the  Father. 
But  here  two  classes  are  specially  to  be  distinguished. 
There  was ,  first,  a  disingenuous,  time-serving  section — 
the  Eusebians ,  as  they  are  commonly  called,  from  their 
leader  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  one  of  the  most  active 
supporters  of  Arius — whose  real  views  were  strongly 
Arian,  but  who  scrupled  at  no  evasion  which  might 
disguise  their  opinions,  and  employed  the  basest  methods 
of  intrigue  and  violence  against  their  opponents.  They 
have  been  called  the  Herodians  of  the  Arian  contro¬ 
versy.  Later  on  they  fell  back  from  the  ofioiovcnov 
formula,  and  took  refuge  in  the  bare  declaration  that 
Christ  was  “  like  ”  (o/xoto?)  to  the  Father  (whence  their 
name  “  Homceans  ”)  ;  or  urged  that  Scriptural  terms 
only  should  be  employed.  They  are  at  this  stage 
known  as  Acaciansy  from  their  new  leader  Acacius. 
But,  second ,  there  was  another  and  larger  section — the 
sincere  Semi-Arians,  as  we  may  call  them — subordina¬ 
tion^  in  tendency,  whose  chief  objection  was  to  the 
word  o/jLoovaios,  which  to  their  mind  had  evil  associa¬ 
tions,2  rather  than  to  the  doctrine  represented  by  it. 
In  the  later  stages  of  the  controversy,  this  party, 
repelled  by  the  unabashed  Arianism  of  some  of  their 
allies,  drew  nearer  to  the  orthodox,  and  ultimately 
accepted  their  formula,  though  still  without  complete 
unity  of  view. 

Such,  then,  were  the  parties  whose  opinions  came 


1  “  'Ofj.oLovaLos  is  in  fact  nothing,  and  when  used  of  the  real  Son  is 
consequently  either  nonsense  or  false  ”  (ibid.  p.  33). 

2  It  was,  they  held,  novel,  unauthorised,  had  Valentinian  and  Sabellian 
associations,  had  been  condemned  by  the  Council  at  Antioch  in  the  case 
of  Paul  of  Samosata,  etc. 


LOGICAL  BEARINGS  OF  THE  DOCTRINE  115 


into  collision  in  the  famous  Council  of  Nicsea.  Let  us 
follow  out  a  little  further  the  logical  bearings  of  the 
Arian  view  as  discussed  then  and  after.  Some  of  the 
evasions  of  the  system — that,  eg.,  about  time — it  was 
not  difficult  for  Athanasius  and  others  to  strip  off. 
The  phrase,  “  There  was  when  He  was  not,”  meant 
nothing  unless  a  time  relation  was  imported  into  it. 
It  was  only  fitted  to  throw  dust  in  the  eyes  of  the 
simple,  who  felt  as  if  Arius  was  asserting  some  quasi¬ 
eternity  of  the  Son  when  he  admitted  that  He  was 
born  before  all  ages.  Again,  it  was  easy  to  show  that 
on  the  Arian  theory  “  begetting  ”  meant  nothing  else 
than  “  creating.”  The  Son  was  a  creature,  neither 
more  nor  less :  the  relation  of  the  Father  and  the 
Son  was  a  purely  causal  one.  And  this,  when 
brought  to  the  point,  Arius  freely  admitted.  The 
Son,  he  said,  was  created  “  out  of  nothing.”  Further, 
the  reason  why  the  Son  was  created  is,  that  God 
is  so  exalted  that  He  cannot  immediately  create  a 
world.  An  intermediate  being  is  needed  to  fill  up 
the  gulf  between  God  and  His  creation.  But,  since 
the  Son  is  Himself  a  creature,  it  is  plain  that  the 
same  difficulty  occurs  in  regard  to  Him.  The  differ¬ 
ence  between  God  and  the  creature  must  always  be 
infinite.  If,  then,  God  is  too  exalted  to  create  a  world, 
He  is  likewise  too  exalted  to  create  the  Son  ;  a  new 
being  is  needed  to  fill  up  the  gulf  between  the 
Father  and  the  Son  ;  another  to  fill  up  the  gulf 
between  God  and  this  new  being,  and  so  ad  infinitum . 

These  objections  lay  on  the  surface.  But,  in  truth 
the  creatureship  of  the  Son  being  admitted,  Arianism 
could  run  only  one  logical  course ;  and  the  logical 
stages  are,  as  usual,  virtually  also  the  historical  ones. 
Arius  naturally  began  by  trying  to  exalt  the  Son  as 
high  as  he  could — by  bringing  his  view  as  near  the 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


116 

Church  doctrine  as  possible.  He  was  led  to  this  also 
by  his  view  that  the  Son  was  the  intermediary  of 
creation.  For  if  God  is  too  high  to  create  the  world, 
the  Son  must  be  represented  as  a  very  exalted  being  if 
God  is  to  create  Him.  The  Son  in  this  way  is  brought 
so  near  to  God  that  the  incomparableness  between 
Him  and  God  is  on  the  point  of  disappearing,  and  there 
seems  no  need  for  violent  opposition  to  the  Church 
doctrine.1  Arius,  in  one  letter,  even  speaks  of  Christ 
as  “  perfect  God  ”  (7 rXrfpr)*;  #eo?)  and  “  unchangeable  ”  “ 
— expressions  quite  contrary  to  the  tenor  of  his  ordinary 
doctrine.  But,  next,  these  high  predicates  bestowed  on 
Christ  could  not  conceal  the  fact  that,  in  the  view  of 
Arius,  the  Son  was  only  a  creature — not  truly  of  the 
essence  of  God  ;  that  the  Father’s  relation  to  Him  was, 
as  said,  only  a  causal  one.8  From  this  he  quite 
logically  developed  his  other  propositions,  that  the  Son 
was  temporal,  mutable,  incapable  of  comprehending 
God,  etc.  It  is  now  the  distance  between  God  and  the 
Son  which  is  the  ruling  thought,  and  in  this  lies  the 
real  nerve  of  the  Arian  doctrine.  But  now,  if  the  Son 
is  only  a  creature,  foreign  in  essence  to  God,  on  what 
ground  is  He  to  be  called  either  Logos  or  Son  ?  He 
is  no  longer  Son  by  nature  ;  why  give  Him  this  name? 
Arius  answers  that  He  receives  the  title  on  the  ground 
of  God’s  foreknowledge  of  His  merits  as  man.  Son- 
ship  is  taken  from  the  divine  side,  and  based  on 
human  merit.  The  transition  is  made  to  a  view  not 
unlike  that  of  Paul  of  Samosata.4  The  pre-existent 
hypostasis  becomes  what  Dorner  calls  a  “  cumbersome, 
confusing,  cosmological  appendage,  which  ought  to 

1  Thus  Dorner,  ii.  p.  237.  2  Theodoret,  i.  5. 

3  Ibid.  “This  is  really  the  cause  of  our  persecution  (that  the  Son 
had  a  beginning),  and  likewise  because  we  say  that  He  is  from  nothing 
(e£  ovk  6vt(vi>).  ” 

4  Cf.  Athanasius,  Orat.  i.  5,  and  throughout. 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  NIC  HI  A 


ii  7 


have  been  cast  aside  with  the  occupation  of  this  new 
point  of  view.”  1  There  was,  besides,  on  this  view,  no 
work  for  Christ  to  accomplish  which  required  this 
higher  nature.  Historically,  therefore,  the  person  of 
Christ  became  increasingly  lowered  in  the  hands  of 
the  Arians  ;  as,  generally,  it  is  the  case  that,  wherever 
Arianism  has  appeared,  it  has  tended  to  work  round 
into  Unitarianism.2 

II.  The  first  of  the  so-styled  ecumenical  Councils 
was  summoned  to  meet  at  Nicaea,  in  Bithynia,  in  May 
or  June  325  A.D.  There,  after  some  preliminary 
proceedings,  it  was  formally  opened  with  much 
splendour  by  the  Emperor  in  person.  A  brief 
narrative  of  its  doings  will  suffice.  It  consisted  of 
about  300  (traditionally  318)  bishops,3  but  a  throng  of 
presbyters,  deacons,  acolytes,  etc.,  swelled  the  attend¬ 
ance  to  one  or  two  thousand.  The  moving  spirit  in 
the  debates  on  the  orthodox  side  was  the  youthful 
Athanasius,  deacon  of  Alexandria,  who  was  present  to 
assist  his  bishop.  The  avowed  Arians  were  few  in 
number.  Even  with  the  Eusebians  they  numbered 
barely  a  score.4  A  creed  proposed  by  the  partisans 
of  Arius  was  rejected  with  horror :  the  creed  itself 
was  torn  ignominiously  in  pieces.5  The  leadership  of 
the  middle  party  was  assumed  by  Eusebius  of  Caesarea, 
who  now  submitted  a  creed,  which  he  said  he  had  been 
taught  as  a  catechumen  at  Caesarea ;  but  this  also, 
notwithstanding  the  great  influence  of  its  proposer, 
and  the  support  of  the  Emperor,  was  rejected  on 

1  ii.  p.  242. 

2  See,  as  respects  England,  the  valuable  appendix  by  Dr.  P.  Fair- 
bairn,  in  Dorner’s  Person  of  Christ,  v.  pp.  337-466. 

3  Cf.  Athanasius,  Socrates,  Theodoret,  etc. 

4  Philostorgius  the  Arian  reckons  22. 

5  Theod.  i.  8. 


1 1 8 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


account  of  the  ambiguity  of  its  expressions.1  Some¬ 
thing  was  needed  which  would  mark  accurately  the 
distinction  between  the  two  parties,  and  this,  it  is  said, 
was  unintentionally  supplied  by  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia 
himself  in  the  term  ofioovcrto ?.2  The  majority  of  the 
Council  saw  that  the  formula  that  the  Son  was  “  of  the 
same  substance  ”  with  the  Father  expressed  exactly 
what  they  were  contending  for,  and  precluded  the 
ambiguities  by  which  the  Eusebian  party  sought  to 
evade  the  force  of  other  terms.  It  met,  accordingly, 
with  their  acceptance.  The  Emperor  also  now  saw 
that  if  unanimity  was  to  be  secured,  it  was  only 
on  the  ground  of  this  formula  it  was  to  be  had. 
He  therefore  threw  his  influence  into  this  scale,  and 
the  triumph  of  the  homoousion  was  secured.  A  new 
creed  was  drawn  up  on  the  basis  of  that  of  Eusebius, 
and  its  acceptance  was  enforced  by  imperial  decree.3 * 
This  seems  to  me  a  more  probable  representation  of  the 
course  of  events  than  that  frequently  given,  which 
makes  the  majority  of  the  Council  belong  to  the  Semi- 
Arian  party,  and  supposes  that  it  was  the  Emperor’s 
will  that  forced  on  them  the  acceptance  of  the  homo¬ 
ousion  formula.  It  seems  clear  that  the  Emperor’s 

1  The  creed  is  given,  Socrates  i.  8,  Theod.  i.  12.  Athanasius  tells 
in  an  epistle  ( Ad  Afros ,  5,  6)  that  when  the  creed  was  read  the  Eusebians 
were  seen  exchanging  nods  and  signs  to  intimate  that  they  could  accept 
its  language  in  their  own  sense. 

2  Ambrose,  De  Fide ,  iii.  15.  Eusebius  had  written  that  “If  we  say  the 
Son  is  true  God  and  uncreate,  then  we  are  in  the  way  to  confess  Him  to 
be  of  one  substance  ( 6/j.oovcnos )  with  the  Father.5’  “  When,”  says 
Ambrose,  “  this  letter  had  been  read  before  the  Council  assembled  at 
Niccea,  the  Fathers  put  this  word  in  their  exposition  of  the  faith,  because 
they  saw  that  it  damped  their  adversaries  ;  in  order  that  they  might  take 
the  sword  which  their  enemies  had  drawn,  to  smite  off  the  head  of  those 
opponents’  own  blasphemous  heresy.”  This  is  probably  the  ypap.fxa  of 
Eusebius  referred  to  in  Theod.  i.  8.  But  the  accounts  are  confused. 

3  Two  Arian  bishops  who  declined  to  sign  were,  along  with  Arius, 

banished.  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  and  another  signed  the  Creed,  but 

refused  to  sign  the  anathemas  attached,  and  were  banished  later. 


THE  NICENE  SYMBOL 


1 19 

sympathies,  so  far  as  they  were  manifested,  were  all  the 
other  way.  Eusebius  of  Caesarea  was  his  adviser,  and 
he  had  given  his  approval  to  the  Eusebian  Creed.  It 
was  evidently  only  when  he  saw  that  the  Athanasian 
formula  alone  had  any  chance  of  acceptance  by  the 
Council  as  a  whole,  that  he  gave  it  the  weight  of  his 
support.  This  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  view  that 
the  majority  of  the  Council  were  originally  more  or 
less  undecided  ;  and  only  as  the  discussion  went  on 
came  clearly  to  perceive  that  it  was  the  essence  of 
the  faith,  as  they  had  always  held  it,  that  Athanasius 
was  doing  battle  for. 

This  famous  Symbol,  oldest  of  the  ecclesiastical  creeds 
— if  we  except  the  so-called  Apostles’  Creed,  of  which  it 
is  really  an  expansion — does  not  quite  correspond  in 
its  original  form  with  the  shape  in  which  we  now  have 
it.  It  runs  thus — “  We  believe  in  one  God,  the  Father  f 
Almighty,  Maker  of  all  things  visible  and  invisible  ; 
and  in  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  begotten 
of  the  Father,  the  only-begotten,  that  is,  of  the  substance 
of  the  Father,  God  of  God,  Light  of  Light,  very  God  of 
very  God,  begotten,  not  made,  being  of  one  substance 
( o/jloovctlos )  with  the  Father  ;  by  whom  all  things  were 
made  both  in  heaven  and  on  earth  ;  who  for  us  men 
and  for  our  salvation,  came  down,  and  was  incarnate, 
and  was  made  man  ;  He  suffered,  and  the  third  day 
He  rose  again  ;  ascended  into  heaven,  and  will  come  to 
judge  the  quick  and  the  dead.  And  in  the  Holy 
Ghost.  But  those  who  say,  ‘  There  was  when  He  was 
not,’  and  ‘  Before  He  was  begotten  He  was  not,’  and 
that  ‘  He  was  made  of  nothing,’  or  who  say  that  the 
Son  of  God  is  of  another  ‘  substance  ’  or  ‘  essence,’  or 
that  the  Son  of  God  is  ‘  created,’  or  ‘  changeable,’  or 
‘  alterable,’  are  anathematised  by  the  Catholic  and 


120 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Apostolic  Church.”  It  will  be  seen  that  the  Creed 
consists  of  two  parts — the  Creed  proper,  or  doctrinal 
part,  declaring  the  Catholic  faith,  and  the  anathe¬ 
matising  part,  condemning  the  errors  of  Arius.  Of  the 
changes  subsequently  made  may  be  noticed,  first,  the 
omission  of  two  clauses,  viz.,  “  only-begotten,  that  is,  of 
the  substance  of  the  Father,  God  of  God,”  and  “  both 
in  heaven  and  on  earth,”  and  later,  of  the  whole 
anathematising  part ;  on  the  other  hand,  besides  the 
insertion  of  various  clauses,  as  “  only-begotten  ”  before 
the  words  “  Son  of  God,”  the  phrase  “  before  all  worlds  ” 
after  “  begotten  of  the  Father,”  especially  a  con¬ 
siderable  addition  after  the  words  “  the  Holy  Ghost.”  1 
The  changes  will  be  readily  seen  if  the  shorter  original 
form  is  compared  with  the  Creed  as  given  in  the 
prayer-books. 

The  Council  had  spoken,  but  its  decision,  far  from 
terminating  the  controversy,  was  in  a  sense  only  the 
beginning  of  it.  The  battle  was  transferred  to  the 
Church  at  large,  and  went  on  with  varying  fortunes  for 
the  next  half-century — till  the  time  of  the  Council  of 
Constantinople  in  381  A.D.  The  Church  was  now  to 
reap  the  fruit  of  its  ill-advised  concession  to  the 
emperors  of  the  power  of  interference  in  ecclesiastical 
affairs — a  power  which  made  the  settlement  of  doctrine, 
the  determination  of  the  Christian  faith,  too  often  an 
affair  of  imperial  caprice  and  court  intrigue,  and  intro¬ 
duced  the  principle  of  persecution  formerly  employed 
against  the  Church  into  the  Church,  in  the  relation  of 
parties  with  each  other.  In  this  long  conflict  of  the 
Nicene  faith  with  its  adversaries,  the  man  who  stands 
out  above  all  others  is  the  noble  Athanasius.  The 
history  of  the  Arian  controversy  after  Nicaea  is  little 
1  See  below,  on  Council  of  Constantinople,  p.  123. 


ATHANASIUS  AND  HIS  OPPONENTS 


121 


more  than  a  history  of  the  persecutions  of  Athanasius. 
Hooker  does  not  exaggerate  when  he  sums  up  the 
situation  in  his  famous  sentence — “  So  that  this  was 
the  plain  condition  of  these  times  :  the  whole  world 
against  Athanasius,  and  Athanasius  against  it.”1  In 
the  midst  of  these  trials  the  character  of  Athanasius 
shines  out  in  splendid  greatness.  He  is,  as  Stanley 
says,  of  all  the  saints  of  the  early  Church,  the  only  one 
who  has  actually  kindled  the  cold  and  critical  pages 
of  Gibbon  into  a  fire  of  enthusiasm.2  To  say  that 
Athanasius  was  the  greatest  man  of  his  age  is  to  say 
very  little.  In  comparison  with  the  shifty,  intriguing, 
unscrupulous  men  opposed  to  him — in  comparison 
with  the  emperors  who  drove  him  into  banishment — 
he  towers  as  a  giant  in  moral  stature  and  strength  of 
purpose.  In  good  report  and  evil  report  he  held  to 
his  faith  without  wavering.  The  means  by  which  he 
fought  his  battles  were  conspicuously  in  contrast  with 
those  of  his  opponents.  He  sought  to  conquer  by 
argument,  by  persuasion,  not  by  violence.  In  the  hour 
of  victory  he  was  generous  and  forbearing.  The  men 
against  whom  he  was  pitted,  on  the  other  hand,  relied 
on  nothing  so  little  as  on  the  justice  of  their  cause. 
Their  sole  design,  as  the  history  of  the  period  shows, 
was  to  ensnare,  circumvent,  and  destroy  him,  and  to 
this  end  no  acts  were  too  base,  no  measures  too  mean, 
to  be  employed.  Five  times  he  was  driven  into  exile, 
and  the  men  put  in  his  place  were  a  disgrace  to 
humanity  and  religion.3  On  this  moral  ground  alone, 
apart  from  all  question  of  truth  and  error,  the  Arian 
party  of  the  fourth  century  stands  condemned. 

1  Ecc.  Polity ,  v.  42. 

2 Eastern  Church,  Lect.  vii.  2.  “Athanasius  masters  Gibbon,”  the 
late  Principal  Cairns  once  remarked  to  the  writer. 

3  Cf.  Gibbon  on  George  of  Cappadocia  and  others. 


122 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Of  the  special  phases  of  the  conflict  I  can  only 
speak  in  the  most  summary  manner.  It  was  not  long 
till  the  policy  of  Constantine  changed,  and  he  brought 
back  Arius  and  sought  to  force  him  on  the  Church — a 
step  only  frustrated  by  the  sudden  death  of  the  heresi- 
arch  in  the  hour  of  his  triumph  (336  A.D.).  But  it  was 
under  Constantine’s  successor,  Constantius — a  man  of 
narrow  and  despotic  spirit,  feeble  and  irresolute,  the 
tool  of  wily  plotters,  without  his  father’s  genius,  but 
with  all  his  father’s  love  of  intermeddling  in  ecclesi¬ 
astical  affairs — that  the  crisis  became  really  acute. 
The  chief  landmarks  in  the  history  are  the  (Semi- 
Arian)  Council  of  Antioch  in  341  A.D.,  remarkable  for 
the  number  of  its  creeds  ;  the  (orthodox)  Council  of 
Sardica  in  343  A.D.,  from  which  the  Eusebian  party 
withdrew,  and  set  up  a  rival  council  at  Philippopolis  ; 
the  multiplied  councils  and  creeds  of  Sirmium,  351, 
357  A.D.  (Arian),  358  (Semi-Arian),  359;  finally  the 
twin  Councils  of  Ariminum  and  Seleucia,  359  A.D.,  in 
connection  with  which,  after  prolonged  resistance,  force 
prevailed  to  secure  subscription  to  a  court-formula, 
and,  in  Jerome’s  memorable  phrase,  “  the  whole  world 
groaned,  and  was  astonished  to  find  itself  Arian.” 
Space  fails  to  tell  how  after  this  the  parties  among  the 
Semi-Arians  gradually  diverged  ;  how  the  persecution 
of  the  sincere  section  under  Valens  drove  them  into  the 
arms  of  the  orthodox  ;  how  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune 
brought  Theodosius  to  the  throne  of  the  East,  and  gave 
a  new  turn  to  affairs  in  the  capital,  where  the  preaching 
of  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  had  already  wrought  a  change 
in  the  temper  of  the  people  ;  how  at  length,  in  38  1  A.D.,/ 
the  Council  was  summoned  at  Constantinople  with  V 
which  the  history  of  the  Arian  controversy  closes. 
This  Council,  when  it  did  come,  was  purely  an  Eastern 
one  ;  and  it  is  only  the  subsequent  adoption  of  its 


END  OF  ARIAN  CONTROVERSY 


123 


decisions  by  the  Church  generally  which  gives  it  its 
title  to  the  name  “ecumenical”  To  it  are  tradition¬ 
ally  ascribed  those  enlargements  of  the  Nicene  Creed 
formerly  referred  to.  This  is  now  known  to  be  a 
mistake.  The  additions  which  the  Nicene  Creed 
received  were  not  the  work  of  this  Council,  but  had 
their  origin  earlier.  Most  of  the  clauses,  e.g.,  are  found 
in  the  Creed  of  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  about  350  A.D., 
and  in  a  Creed  of  Epiphanius  of  Salamis,  about  374 
A.D.  The  Creed  thus  enlarged  was  at  most  adopted 
and  endorsed  by  the  Council  of  Constantinople- — the 
“Council  of  the  150” — and  even  of  this  there  is  not 
contemporary  evidence.  It  is  first  attributed  to  this 
Council  by  the  Council  of  Chalcedon  in  451  A.D. 

Such,  then,  was  the  doctrinal  outcome  of  this  long 
and  weary  controversy,  and  it  can  be  judged  how  far  it 
was  a  triumph  of  Greek  philosophy,  or  how  far  a  victory 
of  Christian  faith.  The  truth  is,  the  whole  strength  of 
Athanasius  was  put  forth  to  rescue  the  Christian  idea 
of  God  from  influences  derived  from  Greek  philosophy 
which  threatened  to  subvert  it.  Sohm,  in  his  spirited 
sketch  of  Church  history,  justly  says  that  the  struggle 
of  the  Nicene  Council  “  was  not  a  barren  dispute  about 
words,  not  a  struggle  to  introduce  one  more  speculative 
idea  into  theology.  It  was  a  struggle  for  the  final 
expulsion  of  pagan  philosophy  from  Christian  territory, 
that  the  essence  of  Christianity  might  not  be  sought  in 
a  logical  explanation  of  the  universe,  nor  its  result  in 
the  establishment  of  a  philosophical  theory.  The 
Hellenisation  of  Christianity  was  successfully  com¬ 
bated  bv  Athanasius  and  the  Nicene  Council.”  1 

o' 

1  p.  56  (E.T. ).  This  verdict,  so  opposite  from  Harnack’s,  yet  receives 
support  from  many  of  Harnack’s  own  admissions.  “There  was  no 
philosophy  in  existence.’’  we  are  told,  “possessed  of  formulae  which 
could  present  in  intelligible  form  the  propositions  of  Athanasius  ”  (iv.  p. 
48).  With  Athanasius  “the  religious  and  Biblical  argument  is  the  chief 


124 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


The  Nicene  affirmations  are  “metaphysical”  only  in 
the  sense  that  all  affirmations  that  relate  to  being  or 
essence — affirmations,  e.g.y  of  the  existence,  personality, 
absoluteness,  eternity  of  God,  or,  for  that  matter,  of  our 
own  personal  identity  and  freedom — are  metaphysical. 
But  such  affirmations  are  none  the  less  necessary. 
Ordinary  speech  is  saturated  with  them,  and  could  not 
get  on  without  them.  What  can  be  truthfully  affirmed 
is  that,  just  because  the  Nicene  definitions  relate  to  the 
sphere  of  being  and  essence — are  “  metaphysical  ”  in 
that  sense — they  require  to  be  supplemented  by  others 
drawn  from  the  moral  and  spiritual  sphere.  The 
highest  manifestation  of  the  Godhead  of  Christ  is  to 
be  sought,  all  will  agree,  in  the  sphere  of  character  and 
will- — in  that  which  makes  the  human  in  Christ  the 
image  and  exponent  of  the  divine.  “  We  beheld  His 
glory,  the  glory  of  the  only-begotten  of  the  Father,  full 
of  grace  and  truth.” 1  Here,  unquestionably,  modern 
theology  comes  in  to  supplement  defects  in  the  Nicene 
theology.  But  modern  theology  can  never  dispense 
with  the  foundation  laid  in  the  witness  of  the  Nicene 
theology  to  Christ’s  essential  divinity. 

III.  The  supreme  divinity  of  the  Son  had  been 
established,  but  the  circle  of  Trinitarian  doctrine  was 
not  yet  complete.  It  could  not  be  till  similar  ex¬ 
pression  had  been  given  to  the  Supreme  Deity  and 
Personality  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  This  was  a  phase  of 
controversy  which  could  not  but  arise  as  a  sequel  to 

thing”  (p.  33).  He  attaches  little  importance  to  the  term  of-ioovcnos  where 
the  thing  itself  is  retained  (p.  36).  Harnack  complains  that  the  Nicene 
Creed  separated  dogmatics  “from  clear  thinking  and  defensible  concep¬ 
tions  ”  (p.  49).  It  is  something  to  have  it  recognised  that  after  all  reason 
has  some  right  to  be  heard  in  theology.  But  this  is  not  easy  to  reconcile 
with  the  assertion  that  Nicene  dogma  is  the  product  of  Greek  metaphysics. 

1  John  i.  14. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  HOL  Y  SPIRIT 


125 


the  Nicene  discussions,  and  at  the  same  time  was 
bound  to  be  helped  to  a  decision  through  them.  The 
controversy,  therefore,  belongs  to  the  fourth  century, 
but  earlier  stages  invite  a  moment’s  notice. 

The  earliest  age  of  the  Church  shows  little  trace  of 
reflection  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  From 
the  first  the  Church  acknowledged  the  threefold  name 
of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  and  so,  implicitly,  may  be 
said  to  have  confessed  the  deity  and  personality  of  the 
Spirit.  But  there  was  no  dogmatic  treatment  of  the 
subject.  The  Church  possessed  the  Spirit,  and  did 
not  feel  the  need  of  discussing  it.  For  long  the  wealth 
of  material  in  the  Apostolic  Epistles  lay  unexplored. 
The  Apostolic  Fathers  are  for  the  most  part  content 
to  use  the  Scriptural  phrases.  Hermas  seems  to  con¬ 
fuse  the  Spirit  and  the  Son.1  The  apologists  are  too 
exclusively  occupied  with  the  Logos  to  have  much  to 
say  of  the  Spirit.  They  do  not  deny  either  His 
personality  or  His  deity,  but,  just  as  in  the  case  of  the 
Son,  do  not  regard  His  procession  as  eternal,  and, 
in  accordance  with  their  subordinationist  bent,  place 
Him  in  a  third  rank  in  the  Godhead.2 3  Theophilus,  one 
of  the  apologists,  is  the  first  to  use  the  word  Trias? 
The  Montanistic  movement  in  the  second  century 
may  be  regarded  as  a  reaction  in  favour  of  the  recogni¬ 
tion  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ;  but  it  passed  into  extravagance 
in  its  claim  to  inaugurate  a  new  era  of  the  Paraclete. 
The  early  Catholic  Fathers  carry  the  doctrine  further. 
The  deity  and  personality  of  the  Spirit  are  fully 
recognised  by  Irenaeus,  Tertullian,  Clement,  and  Origen. 
Tertullian  expressly  calls  Him  “  God,”  and  lays  stress 

1  Cf.  Sim.  v. 

2  Justin,  1st  Apol.  13  ;  Athenagoras,  10. 

3  ii.  15.  Elsewhere  Theophilus  tends  to  confuse  the  Son  and  Spirit 
(ii.  10). 


126 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


on  His  unity  of  essence  with  Father  and  with  Son.1 
The  Alexandrian  Fathers  (not  Tertullian)  acknowledge 
His  eternal  origin  ;  but  Origen,  in  line  with  his  general 
tendency,  emphasises  the  subordination  of  the  Spirit.'2 3 
As  he  calls  the  Son  a  Sevrepos  Oeos,  so  in  one  place  he 
speaks  of  the  Spirit  as  7 evrjrov  (originate),  though 
exalted  in  honours  and  dignity,  as  also  in  eternity,  above 
all  7 evrjra?  His  language  thus  gave  a  point  of  con¬ 
nection  to  the  loose  views  of  the  fourth  century  ;  but 
in  reality  Origen  held  strongly  to  the  consubstantiality 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  with  God.4  The  Monarchian 
heresies,  in  both  their  Unitarian  and  Modal  forms, 
necessarily  drew  after  them  the  denial  of  the  Spirit  as 
a  distinct  Person. 

It  was,  however,  in  the  fourth  century,  as  I  have 
said,  and  as  a  consequence  of  the  Arian  controversy, 
that  the  doctrine  of  the  Spirit  came  formally  to  be 
discussed.  It  had  been  decided  in  this  controversy  as 
respects  the  Son  that  He  was  not  a  creature,  but  had  His 
personality  in  the  sphere  of  the  divine.  On  this  higher 
and  eternal  side  of  His  being  He  was  opboovcno 9  with 
the  Father.  But  if  F'ather  and  Son  were  divine  Persons, 
what  of  the  Spirit — the  third  member  of  the  sacred 
circle  ?  The  Nicene  formula  did  not  pronounce  on  this 
question,  but  only  said  briefly,  as  a  kind  of  appendage  to 
the  rest  of  the  Creed,  “  And  in  the  Holy  Ghost.”  It  was 
apparently  taken  for  granted  that,  the  personality  and 
deity  of  the  Son  being  confessed,  that  of  the  Spirit  would 

1  Against  Praxeas  (2,  25,  26),  “The  Spirit,  although  He  is  called 
God  ”  (26). 

2  First  Principles ,  Preface,  and  ii.  2,  etc. 

3  Com.  on  John  i.  2.  The  word  is  used  in  the  sense  of  “  derived.” 

4  “Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,”  says  Harnack,  “form  a  triad  to 
which  nothing  may  be  compared  ;  they  are  equal  in  dignity  and  honour, 
and  the  substance  they  possess  is  one”  (ii.  p.  358). 


RISE  OF  MACEDONIAN  HERESY 


127 


be  acknowledged  also,  as,  in  fact,  it  had  not  hitherto 
been  challenged  by  any  section  of  the  Catholic  Church.1. 
Nor  till  the  middle  of  the  century  does  there  seem  to 
have  been  much  discussion  on  the  subject.  The 
Arians,  denying  the  real  divinity  of  the  Son,  naturally 
could  not  acknowledge  that  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
appear  to  have  regarded  Him  as  a  creature  of  the 
Son,  even  as  the  Son  was  of  the  Father.2  After 
350  A.D.,  however,  the  real  controversy  on  the  Spirit 
broke  out.3  The  gradual  approximation  of  the  Semi- 
Arians  to  the  acceptance  of  the  homoousion  formula 
did  not  imply  that  they  were  equally  willing  to  extend 
this  formula  to  the  Spirit.  Opinions,  on  the  contrary, 
began  to  be  freely  broached  unfavourable  to  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  deity  of  the  Spirit.  He  was 
declared  by  many  to  be  a  creature,  and  even  to  be 
a  ministering  spirit,  similar  to  the  angels,  and  differing 
from  them  only  in  degree.4  Athanasius  found  this 
form  of  belief  prevailing  in  Egypt,  and  wrote  in 
refutation  of  it  a  series  of  letters  to  Serapion,  a  bishop 
in  the  Delta.5  The  subject  came  up  in  a  council  held 
by  Athanasius  in  Alexandria  in  362  A.D.,  and  the 
denial  of  the  deity  of  the  Spirit  was  there  formally 
branded  as  heresy.  From  360  A.D.  the  party  found 

1  The  language  of  Methodius,  in  the  end  of  the  third  century,  is 
specially  strong  and  unequivocal,  and  evidently  expresses  general  belief. 
To  him  the  Spirit  is  onoovcriov  with  the  Father.  Cf.  Migne,  xviii.  351  ; 
and  E.T.  in  Ante-Nicene  Library ,  pp.  209,  216,  230,  etc. 

2  Epiphanius  (69)  says — “They  say  the  Holy  Spirit  is  the  creature 
of  a  creature,  for  the  sake  of  the  making  of  all  things  by  the  Son.”  Cf. 
Athanasius,  Orat.  i.  6. 

3  Hamack  states  that  “  in  the  first  thirty  years  after  the  commence¬ 
ment  of  the  Arian  controversy,  the  Holy  Spirit  is  hardly  ever  mentioned,” 
i. e. ,  in  debate  (iv.  p.  ill). 

4  Cf.  Sozomen,  iv.  27. 

5  He  cites  Scripture  and  appeals  to  catholic  tradition  (i.  28),  but 
argues  also  that  the  principle  of  sanctification  cannot  be  of  the  same 
nature  as  that  which  it  sanctifies.  As  by  Him  we  are  made  partakers  of 
the  divine  nature,  He  must  be  divine  (i.  ii.  iii. ). 


128 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


a  head  in  the  deposed  bishop  of  Constantinople, 
Macedonius,  a  violent  and  unscrupulous  man  ;l  and 
through  his  exertions  the  new  views  spread  rapidly 
among  the  Semi  -  Arians.  The  Church  was  anew 
plunged  into  indescribable  confusion.  “  What  storm 
at  sea,”  says  Basil,  “  was  ever  so  wild  and  fierce  as  this 
tempest  of  the  Churches.  In  it  every  landmark  of  the 
Fathers  has  been  removed  ;  every  bulwark  of  opinion 
has  been  shaken  ;  everything  buoyed  up  on  the  un¬ 
sound  is  dashed  about  and  shaken  down.  We  attack 
one  another,  we  overthrow  one  another  ;  if  our  enemy 
is  not  the  first  to  strike  us,  we  are  wounded  by  the 
comrade  at  our  side.”  2 

It  would  be  tedious  to  enumerate  the  synods  and 
creeds  to  which  the  attempt  to  check  this  Macedonian 
(“  Pneumatomachian  ”)  heresy  gave  rise.  Treatises  on 
the  Holy  Spirit,  or  against  the  Macedonians,  now  take 
their  place  in  the  writings  of  the  Fathers  with  those 
against  the  Eunomians  and  other  heretics.  Amidst 
the  distractions  which  they  depict  so  graphically,  the 
minds  of  the  leaders  never  wavered  as  to  where  the 
truth  lay,  nor  did  the  Church  under  their  guidance 
waver  in  the  public  testimony  it  gave  forth.  Apart 
from  other  reasons,  the  defenders  of  the  deity  of  the 
Spirit  had  always  this  great  argument  on  their  side, 
that  if  the  homoousion  of  the  Son  with  the  Father  is 
admitted,  it  is  difficult  to  deny  the  applicability  of  the 
idea  to  the  Spirit,  who,  whatever  else  may  be  said  of 
Him,  is  always  in  the  Scriptures  recognised  as  in  the 
fullest  sense  divine .  Few  seem  to  have  denied  the 

1  “The  exploits  of  Macedonius,”  says  Socrates,  “on  behalf  of 
Christianity  consisted  of  murders,  battles,  incarcerations,  and  civil  wars  ” 
(ih  38). 

2  On  the  Spirit,  30.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  says  some  regarded  the 
Son  as  an  influence,  others  as  a  creature,  others  as  God  Himself,  and 
others  did  not  know  what  to  decide  (31  st  Orat  ). 


\ 

CONDEMN  A  TION  OF  MA  CEDONIA  NISM  1 29 

person,  ality  of  the  Spirit,  though,  as  we  learn  from 
Gregor  y,  some  did.  In  modern  times,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  usually  the  personality,  not  the  deity, 
of  th<  Spirit  men  deny.  If,  however,  the  first  two 
meml  -s  of  the  Trinitarian  circle  are  admitted  to  be 
persoi  ’,  the  third,  for  that  very  reason,  may  be  pre¬ 
sumed  d  be  so  also.  It  is  this  logical  implication  of 
the  on«,  doctrine  with  the  other  which  makes  it  rare 
for  those  admitting  the  personality  and  deity  of  the 
Son  to  c:eny  a  like  personality  and  deity  of  the  Spirit. 
The  same?  logical  implication  accounts  for  the  fact  that 
the  controversy  on  the  supreme  deity  of  the  Spirit,  if 
sharp,  w  as  also  short  The  Macedonian  heresy  was 
definitely  condemned  along  with  the  Arian  at  the 
Council  olr  Constantinople  in  381  A.D.  After  this  it 
seems  to  have  died  down — at  least  is  little  heard  of. 
It  has  left:  its  memorial  in  the  enlarged  clause  in  the 
Nicene  Creed  to  which  reference  was  formerly  made. 
I  quote  the  whole  of  this  new  portion,  which  makes 
explicit  the?  divinity  of  the  Spirit,  and  reaffirms  certain 
articles  already  embraced  in  the  Apostles’  Creed.  “  And 
[we  believe]]  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Lord  and  Giver 
of  life  ;  who  proceedeth  from  the  Father  ;  who  with 
the  Father  and  the  Son  together  is  worshipped  and 
glorified  ;  who  spake  by  the  prophets.  In  one  holy, 
catholic,  and  apostolic  Church.  We  acknowledge  one 
baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins ;  we  look  for  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  life  of  the  world  to 
come.” 1 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  controverted  word 
ofAoovcnos  does  not  occur  in  this  addition  to  the  Creed. 
It  possibly  was  designedly  omitted  to  avoid  giving 
offence  ;  but  the  assertion  of  the  supreme  divinity  of 
the  Spirit  is  sufficiently  plain,  and  the  clauses  may  be 

1  The  Prayer-Book  (Western)  version  has  the  singular,  “I  believe.” 

K 


130 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


regarded  as  ruled  by  the  statement  regarding  th  e  Son. 
The  Church  never  hesitated  in  the  interpretatioi  i  to  be 
put  upon  it.  It  will  be  hard  also  to  point  to  anything 
in  these  clauses  that  can  justly  be  descri  ed  as 
“  metaphysical,”  or  as  having  any  analogy  tc  Creek 
philosophy.  Even  the  term  “  proceedeth  ”  has  bt  the 
fixed  theological  sense  it  acquired  later.  It  use  is 
based  on  the  etymological  idea  of  spirit  as  sc  nething 
breathed  forth,  and  it  is  employed  to  distinguish  the 
mode  of  origin  of  the  Spirit  from  that  of  the  Son,  who, 
in  harmony  with  the  filial  relationship,  is  spo  ken  of  as 
“  begotten.”  There  is  doubtless  a  distinction  covered 
by  the  difference  of  terms,  but  it  should  freely  be 
acknowledged  that  we  pass  here  into  the  region  of  the 
ineffable. 

Supplementary 

The  only  important  addition  to  the  N  icene-Con- 
stantinople  Creed  since  381  A.D.  has  been  the  insertion 
by  the  Synod  of  Toledo  in  589  A.D.  of  the  “  filioque  ” 
clause,  which  marks  the  difference  between  East  and 
West  on  the  subject  of  the  “  Procession  ”  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  The  Eastern  Church  reads  the  Creed — “  pro¬ 
ceedeth  from  the  Father,”  while  the  Western  Church 
has  it,  “  proceedeth  from  the  Father  and  the  Son!' 
The  dispute  indicates  a  difference  which  his  existed  in 
these  Churches  from  the  first,  and  is  easi  y  explicable 
out  of  their  respective  conditions.  The  Eastern  Church 
had  to  do  with  Arians  and  Macedonians,  who  made 
the  Spirit  a  creature  of  the  Son,  or  viewed  Him  at 
least  as  inferior  in  dignity,  because  brought  into  being 
through  the  mediation  of  the  Son.  It  sought,  therefore, 
to  safeguard  His  full  divinity  by  representing  Him  as 
proceeding  solely  and  immediately  from  the  Father — 


THE  “FILIOQUE”  CLAUSE  131 

the  one  principle  (dp^rj)  or  fountain  (7 rjjyp)  of  the 
Godhead.  The  Westerns,  on  the  other  hand,  started 
with  the  identity  of  the  substance  of  Son  and  Father, 
and,  wishful  of  conserving  the  truth  that  the  Spirit  is  as 
truly  the  Spirit  of  the  Son  as  of  the  Father — else  the 
two  were  held  not  to  be  equal  —  expressed  this  by 
saying  that  the  Spirit  proceeds  from  both  the  Father 
and  the  Son.  The  Easterns  rejected  this  formula 
absolutely,  and  the  division  thence  originating  has 
never  been  healed.  Augustine  may  be  named  as  a 
chief  upholder  of  the  “  filioque  ”  view.  The  Synod  of 
Toledo,  at  which  ecclesiastical  sanction  was  given  to  it, 
was  held  on  occasion  of  the  conversion  of  the  Goths 
to  the  Catholic  faith. 


V 


The  Doctrine  of  Man  and  Sin;  Grace  and  Predestina 

TION - AuGUSTINIAN  AND  PELAGIAN  CONTROVERSY 

(Fifth  Century) 


“  His  (Augustine’s)  appearance  in  the  history  of  dogmas  forms  a  distinct 
epoch,  especially  as  regards  anthropological  and  soteriological  doctrines, 
which  he  advanced  considerably  further,  and  brought  to  a  greater  clearness 
and  precision  than  they  had  ever  been  before  in  the  consciousness  of  the 
Church.  ” — Schaff. 

* '  We  can  observe  here,  if  anywhere,  the  '  logic  ’  of  history.  .  .  .  The 
inner  logic  of  events  is  proved  by  the  simultaneous  and  independent  emergence 
of  Augustinianism  and  Pelagianism.  ” — Harnack. 

'  ‘  One  such  writer  is  in  himself  a  whole  age,  and  more  than  an  age  of 
authorship;  a  complete  school,  and  more  than  a  school  of  divinity.” — 
Mozley. 


LECTURE  V 


The  Doctrine  of  Man  and  Sin  :  Grace  and  Predestination — 
Augustinian  and  Pelagian  Controversy  (Fifth  Century). 

The  next  important  step  in  the  development  of 
doctrine  is  that  associated  with  the  name  of  Augustine. 
With  Augustine  theology  passes  from  East  to  West, 
and  from  the  region  of  theology  proper  to  that  of 
anthropology.  Not  that  this  great  Father  was  not  a 
theologian  in  the  stricter  sense  as  well.  No  man 
plunged  deeper  than  he  into  the  mysteries  of  the 
divine  nature  in  his  discussions  of  the  Trinity ;  or 
soared  higher  in  the  apprehension  of  the  speculative 
questions  involved  in  the  relation  of  God  to  the  world 
and  to  time.  He  stood  firmly  in  the  paths  marked 
out  by  the  Nicene  decisions ;  but,  through  his  pro¬ 
founder  studies  of  sin  and  grace,  was  able  to  carry  his 
inquiries  into  the  doctrine  of  God  into  regions  yet 
unexplored.  Greek  theology  had  occupied  itself  mainly 
with  what  are  sometimes  called  the  “  metaphysical  ” 
determinations  of  the  Godhead — the  Trinity  and  the 
relations  of  the  divine  Persons  to  one  another.  But 
there  are  deeper,  more  baffling  questions  than  even 
those  of  the  Trinitarian  relations  —  questions  which 
arise  the  moment  we  begin  to  reflect  on  man  and 
freedom  in  their  relations  to  God,  and  on  the  problems 
of  sin  and  grace, — which  also,  because  bound  up  with 
the  practical  interests  of  our  salvation,  touch  us  more 


136 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


vitally,  and  evoke  emotions  which  the  speculative 
contemplation  of  the  inner  life  of  the  Godhead  does 
not  stir.  It  is  plain  that  these  questions  could  not  be 
satisfactorily  investigated  till  the  general  doctrine  of 
God  had  been  firmly  established — that,  in  logical  order, 
they  come  later  than  it./  It  is  equally  plain  that  till 
they  had  been  raised,  no  satisfactory  progress  could  be 
made  with  either  Christology  or  Soteriology.  For  the 
former  calls  for  investigation  of  the  nature  of  man  as 
well  as  of  the  nature  of  God  ;  and  the  latter  has  for  its 
presuppositions  adequate  conceptions  of  sin  and  grace, 
and  of  God’s  relation  to  both. 

This  anthropological  group  of  questions  it  is, 
accordingly,  which  now,  in  the  providence  of  God,  is 
brought  to  determination  in  the  Church ;  and  that  the 
“  hour  ”  had  come  for  them — that  they  were  “  in  the 
air,”  waiting  to  be  discussed  —  is  seen  in  the  simul¬ 
taneous  emergence  of  the  two  men  who  represent  the 
opposite  poles  of  doctrine  on  this  subject — Augustine 
and  Pelagius.  What  Athanasius  and  Arius  were  in  the 
Arian  controversy  ;  what  Anselm  and  Abelard  were  in 
the  Soteriological  controversy;  what  Calvin  and  Arminius 
were  in  post-Reformation  controversy  on  the  application 
of  Redemption- — that  Augustine  and  Pelagius  were  in 
this  Anthropological  controversy.  It  is  therefore  a  sign 
of  weakness  in  a  theologian  to  belittle  the  significance 
of  the  Western  or  Augustinian  theology  in  comparison 
with  the  Eastern.1  The  fact  that  the  working  out 
this  side  of  theology  was  given  to  the  Latin  Church 

1  As  is  done,  e.g. ,  by  Dr.  Allen  in  his  Continuity  of  Christian  Thought. 
The  greater  teachers,  such  as  Harnack,  do  not  fall  into  this  mistake. 
Harnack’s  appreciation  of  Augustine,  however,  squares  ill  with  his  theory 
of  the  Greek  origin  of  dogma.  His  exposition  of  Augustine,  as  formerly 
observed,  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  parts  of  his  work,  though  in  many 
places  the  lights  are  badly  crossed. 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUGUSTINE 


1 37 


and  in  it  specially  to  Augustine,  connects  itself  with  the 
difference  of  bent  in  West  and  East  respectively.  In 
general,  Latin  theology  distinguishes  itself  from  Greek 
by  its  less  subtle  and  speculative  character, — though  in 
Augustine  the  speculative  faculty  is  combined  with  the 
practical  in  a  remarkable  degree,  —  by  its  stronger 
adherence  to  tradition,  and  by  its  preference  for  the 
treatment  of  the  class  of  doctrines  I  have  called 
anthropological — the  doctrines  of  human  nature,  and  of 
sin  and  grace ;  instead  of,  as  in  the  Greek  Church, 
those  of  the  Trinity  and  of  the  Person  of  Christ.  The 
Augustinian  theology  never  took  deep  hold  upon  the 
Greek  Church  :  hence  in  great  measure  its  sterility  and 
unprogressiveness.  On  the  other  hand,  the  rich  pro¬ 
gressive  movement  of  theology  on  European  soil — its 
vitality  and  productiveness — are  in  a  large  degree  due 
to  the  upturning  of  the  depths  of  human  thought 
through  the  Augustinian  theology,  and  the  impregna¬ 
tion  of  the  Western  mind  with  its  ideas.  The  way  was 
prepared,  no  doubt,  for  Augustine  by  the  Latin  Fathers 
who  preceded  him — especially  by  Tertullian,  Hilary, 
and  Ambrose.  Tertullian  had  early  laid  emphasis  on 
the  facts  of  sin,  of  hereditary  depravity,  of  moral 
bondage,  and  of  the  need  of  divine  grace  to  redeem 
from  these  ;  while,  like  Augustine  after,  he  did  not  fail 
to  insist  on  the  soul’s  inherent  and  indestructible 
relation  to  God,  and  capacity  for  salvation.1  But  the 
thoughts  which  in  these  Fathers  frequently  lack  in 
depth,  and  are  only  imperfectly  unified,  are  in  Augustine 
developed  into  a  system  of  marvellous  completeness, 
every  part  of  it  instinct  with  life  and  power  through 

1  Cf.  Tertullian's  tractate  on  The  Witness  of  the  Soul ,  and  his  treatise 
On  the  Soul ,  40,  41.  Ambrose  is  repeatedly  quoted  by  Augustine,  e.g, in 
his  Nature  and  Grace,  75  ;  Grace  of  Christ  and  Original  Sin ,  i.  48  ;  ii. 
47,  etc.  On  Hilary  and  Ambrose,  cf.  Neander  and  Harnack. 


i38 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


connection  with  his  own  experience.  That  system  has, 
as  we  shall  see,  its  sides  of  limitation  and  inconsistency, 
but  it  is  none  the  less  a  vast,  epoch-making  effort,  which 
secured  for  this  Father  a  well-deserved  supremacy  over 
men’s  minds  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  won  for  his 
conceptions  a  revival  in  yet  more  vigorous  form  at  the 
Reformation.1 

I.  Augustine’s  theology,  as  just  hinted,  is  only  to  be 
understood  by  reference  to  Augustine’s  experience. 
Biography  here  is  more  than  information  ;  it  is  com¬ 
mentary  and  key.  Happily,  for  Augustine’s  experience 
we  do  not  need  to  travel  farther  than  his  own  wonder¬ 
ful  Confessions — a  record  in  which  the  secrets  of  his 
heart  and  life  are  laid  bare  with  a  fidelity  without 
parallel  in  literature.  There  is  no  ostentation,  no 
morbid  love  of  display  or  self  -  posing,  in  these 
disclosures  of  a  soul’s  wanderings  and  recovery,  but  the 
most  complete  humility,  blending  with  adoring  praise 
of  the  grace  that  rescued  him  from  the  well-nigh 
hopeless  labyrinth  of  his  moral  and  intellectual  errors, 
and  restored  him  to  the  source  of  all  good.  The  story 
of  his  early  years  and  youthful  aberrations  ;  of  his 
saintly  mother’s  prayers — a  mother  who  never  lost  her 
confidence  in  God  that  her  son  would  yet  be  given 
back  to  her ;  of  his  disquiet  of  heart  in  the  midst  of 
his  excesses  ;  of  how,  even  in  Cicero,  whose  polished 
periods  seemed  to  him  finer  than  the  Scriptures,  he 
missed  the  savour  of  the  name  of  Christ — “  for  this 
name,”  he  tells  us,  “  according  to  thy  mercy,  O  Lord, 
this  name  of  my  Saviour,  thy  Son,  my  tender  heart, 

1  Cf.  Iiarnack’s  striking  tribute,  commencing,  “If  vve  Western 
Christians  are  shut  up  to  the  conviction  that  religion  moves  between  the 
poles  of  sin  and  grace — nature  and  grace,”  and  concluding,  “  then  we  feel 
with  the  emotions,  think  in  the  thoughts,  and  speak  with  the  words  of 
Augustine”  (v.  p.  73,  E.T.). 


AUGUSTINE'S  “ CONFESSIONS » 


*39 


even  with  my  mother’s  milk,  had  drunk  in,  and  deeply 
treasured,  and  whatever  was  without  that  name,  though 
never  so  learned,  polished,  or  truthful,  took  not  entire 
hold  of  me  ”  ; 1  of  how  he  fell  into  the  snares  of  the 
Manichseans  in  his  search  for  a  solution  of  the  problem 
of  evil,  and  for  nine  years  was  held  captive  by  that 
sect ;  of  his  gradual  disillusionment,  and  attraction  for 
a  time  to  Platonism  ; 2  of  his  removal  to  Milan,  and 
contact  with  Ambrose,  whose  personal  influence  and 
preaching,  and  not  least  the  sweet  music  of  his  Church,3 
broke  down  his  prejudices,  and  won  him  back  to  faith ; 
of  the  marvellous  crisis  of  his  conversion  in  the  garden 
of  his  villa  at  Milan,  where,  in  deep  agitation  at  the 
narrative  of  the  conversion  of  two  others,  he  flung 
himself  beneath  a  fig-tree,  and  wept  and  wrestled  for 
forgiveness,  and  for  strength  to  break  with  his  sins  4 — 
all  this  I  must  assume  to  be  familiar  to  you.  Baptized 
in  387  A.D.,  when  yet  a  young  man  of  thirty-three 
years  ;  soon  after  made  presbyter  at  Hippo  ;  he  was, 
in  395  A.D.,  elected  bishop  of  that  city,  and  there 
laboured  till  his  death  in  430  A.D.,  his  years  filled  up 
with  incessant  labours,  and  with  controversies — first 
with  the  Manichseans,  then  with  the  Donatists,  finally 
with  the  Pelagians.  Of  his  other  works,  I  mention 
only  his  magnuvi  opus  on  The  City  of  God — one  of  the 
most  comprehensive,  as  it  is  the  latest,  of  the  Christian 
apologies,  and  at  the  same  time  the  first  sketch  of  a 
Christian  philosophy  of  history.5  The  “  City  of  God,” 
in  its  then  existing  form,  Augustine  naturally  identifies 

1  iii-  4»  5. 

2  vii.  20;  cf.  9,  21  ;  viii.  2.  In  another  work  he  tells  us  that  the 
writings  of  the  Platonists  kindled  in  him  “an  incredible  ardour”  ( Against 
the  Academics ,  ii.  5). 

3  ix.  6,  7.  4  viii.  6-12. 

5  The  occasion  of  the  work  was  the  terrible  shock  given  by  the  sack  of 

Rome  by  the  Goths  in  410  A. D. 


140 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


with  the  Catholic  Church  ;  but  his  conception  is  really 
much  wider,  for  the  two  cities — “  two  kinds  of  human 
society,”  as  he  describes  them — go  back  to  the  be¬ 
ginning,  and  actually  stand  for  what  we  would  call  the 
Kingdom  of  God  in  time,  with  its  antithesis  in  that 
portion  of  mankind  who  live  after  the  flesh  and  not 
after  the  Spirit.1 

The  question  has  often  been  discussed  as  to  the 
degree  of  influence,  if  any,  which  Augustine’s  long 

connection  with  Manichaeism  had  on  the  shaping  of  his 

theology.  To  this  source  many  are  disposed  to 

attribute  what  they  regard  as  his  gloomy  and  ex- 

aggerated  views  of  the  evil  of  human  nature.2  But 
there  is  little  doubt,  I  think,  that  they  are  wrong.  It 
was  not  Manichaeism  which  led  Augustine  into  his 
sombre  views  of  human  nature,  but  rather  his  profound 
experience  of  the  moral  discord  within  himself  which 
drew  him  into  sympathy  with  Manichaean  error  ;  just 
as,  again,  it  was  his  growing  insight  into  the  ethical 
character  of  this  opposition  between  the  carnal  will  and 
God — i.e.y  into  its  real  character  as  sin — which  turned 
him  away  from  Manichaean  dualism,  to  which  evil  is  a 
thing  of  nature — substantial,  eternal,  unalterable — and 
forced  him  to  seek  a  truer  solution.  There  is  nothing 
that  Augustine  holds  to  more  strongly  than  that  every 
nature,  as  created  by  God,  is  good,  and  that  sin  and 
corruption  have  a  voluntary  origin.3  Nor — though 
this  is  often  charged  upon  him — does  he  ever  so 

1  Cf.  bk.  xiv. 

2  Harnack  often  comes  back  on  this  (v.  pp.  102,  115,  187,  204,  etc.). 
Neander  says — “Very  unjustly  have  Augustine’s  anthropological  views 
been  attributed  to  the  influence  of  Manichaeism  ”  (iv.  p.  290,  Bohn).  It 
should  be  noted  that  while  evil  has  a  substantial  existence  in  Manichaeism, 
to  Augustine  it  is  a  privation — a  defect.  See  below,  p.  147. 

3  Cf.  Confessions ,  vii.  12-16  ;  Enchiridion ,  12-15,  etc. 


AUGUSTINE  AND  THE  CHURCH 


141 

emphasise  the  corruption  of  human  nature  as  to  imply 
that  this  nature  has  altogether  lost  the  traces  of  its 
divine  original.  It  is,  on  the  contrary,  of  the  essence  of 
his  teaching  that  the  soul  can  never  so  cut  itself  away 
from  God,  its  true  good,  as  to  cease  to  feel  the  need  of 
Him  and  have  an  instinctive  longing  after  Him.  His 
own  experience  was  the  convincing  proof  of  this,  and 
his  words  in  the  opening  of  the  Confessions  are  the 
expression  of  it — “  Thou  hast  made  us  for  Thyself,  and 
our  heart  is  restless  till  it  rest  in  Thee.” 1  Evil,  it  is 
true,  was  a  subject  which  exercised  his  profoundest 
thoughts,  but  we  may  rest  assured  that  it  was  not 
Manichaeism,  but  his  own  experience,  which  was  the 
source  from  which,  above  all,  his  doctrine  of  sin  was 
drawn. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that 
Augustine’s  theology  has  drawbacks  and  limitations  of 
another  kind.  His  theology  has,  in  fact,  two  sides — 
the  one,  a  Churchly ,  or  Old  Catholic  side,  in  which  he 
stands  tenaciously  on  Cyprianic  ground  in  his  views  of 
the  nature  of  the  Church,  of  its  unity,  its  episcopate,  its 
authority,  its  sacraments,  the  necessity  of  connection 
with  it  for  salvation  ;  the  other,  a  doctrinal  side,  in 
which  Protestants  may  more  lawfully  claim  inheritance 
in  him,  in  his  doctrines  of  sin  and  grace,  with  which  are 
connected  his  views  of  the  fall  and  corruption  of  human 
nature,  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  predestination,  on  the 
other.  These  two  sides  of  Augustine’s  theology  are 
never  fully  reconciled — could  not,  indeed,  be.  As 
respects  the  first,  Augustine  is  a  churchman  of  the 
churchmen,  and  Catholicism  may  fairly  claim  him  as 
its  own.  This  comes  out  peculiarly  in  the  Donatist 
controversy.  The  line  of  his  experience  here  was 

1  i.  1. 


142 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


probably  not  unlike  that  of  John  Henry  Newman  in 
our  own  day,  in  his  yearning  for  an  objective  authority, 
capable  of  being  known  by  sure  marks.1  Even  so,  we 
should  greatly  mistake  if  we  supposed — what  his  whole 
history  belies — that  it  was  subjection  to  an  external 
authority,  and  not  inner  experience,  and  irresistible 
conviction  of  the  truth  itself,  which  really  decided 
Augustine  to  become  a  Christian,  or  gave  his  theology 
its  distinctive  colour.  We  have  seen  what  his  struggles 
were  ;  how  actively  his  mind  was  at  work  in  searching 
out  the  true  and  false  ;  and  how  at  length  decision 
came  in  the  throes  of  a  mighty  spiritual  crisis.  It 
certainly  cannot  be  said  that  what  is  peculiar  in  his 
theology  was  imposed  on  him  by  the  authority  of  the 
Church  ;  for  it  is  precisely  in  the  region  in  which  he 
worked — the  doctrines  of  sin  and  grace — that  previous 
theology  had  been  weak  and  halting.  Augustine  gave 
to  the  theology  of  the  Church  infinitely  more  than  he 
took  from  it.  The  truth  is,  Augustine’s  positions  on 
the  subject  of  Church  authority  are  far  from  harmonious. 
When  arguing  with  the  Manichaeans  (this,  however,  in 
his  first  years  as  a  Christian),  it  suited  him  to  base  his 
acceptance  of  Scripture  on  the  authority  of  the  Church  ; 2 
but  afterwards,  in  conflict  with  the  Donatists,  who 
themselves  claimed  to  be  the  true  Church,  he  would 
allow  no  evidence  to  settle  this  claim  but  that  drawn 
from  the  Scriptures.  The  opponents  must  prove  the 
genuineness  of  their  Church,  not  by  appeals  to  councils 
or  bishops  or  miracles,  but  by  the  law  and  the  prophets, 
and  the  word  of  Christ  alone.8  In  his  theological  con¬ 
troversies,  appeal  to  the  authority  of  the  Church  plays 
a  very  subordinate  part. 

1  Cf.  Neander,  iii .  p.  288  ;  Harnack,  v.  pp.  78-82  (E.T.).  Harnack's 
remarks  on  authority  ”  here  have  a  strange  look  from  a  Ritschlian. 

2  Against  the  Epistle  of  Manic  keens  y  6. 

3  On  the  Unity  of  the  Churchy  49,  50. 


AUGUSTINE  AND  PROTESTANTISM 


M3 


If  Catholicism  can  claim  Augustine  on  the  side 


of  his  theory  of  the  Church,  it  is  different  on  the 
side  of  doctrine.  Here,  as  I  have  said,  he  much 
more  nearly  approaches  Protestantism — especially  in 
its  Calvinistic  type — while  Catholicism  has  largely 
abandoned  his  ground  as  inconsistent  with  its  sacer¬ 
dotal  scheme,  and  receded  into  a  vague  Semi  - 
Pelagianism.  Yet  there  are  characteristic  differences. 
In  two  respects,  particularly,  we  may  note  a  difference 
in  Augustine’s  theology  from  the  later  Protestant 
doctrine,  both  results  of  the  crossing  of  the  sacramen- 
tarian  principle. 

First ,  Augustine  differs  from  the  ordinary  Protestant 
view  in  extending,  with  Catholicism  generally,  the 
meaning  of  “  justification  ”  to  include,  not  merely  the 
free  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  acceptance  of  the  sinner 
for  Christ’s  sake,  but  the  inward  change,  or  impartation 
of  a  new  nature  or  life,  which  he  supposes  to  take  place 
in  baptism.  It  is  not  that  Augustine  means  to  over¬ 
look  or  deny  what  Protestants  mean  by  “  justification  ”  ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  strongly  affirms  it.1  In  his  con¬ 
troversy  with  the  Donatists,  e.g.,  he  boldly  says,  “No 
one  makes  me  free  from  guilt  but  Him  who  died  for 
our  sins,  and  rose  again  for  our  justification  ;  for  I 
believe,  not  in  the  minister  by  whom  I  am  baptised, 
but  in  Him  who  justifies  the  ungodly,  that  my  faith 
may  be  counted  to  me  for  righteousness.” 2  Many 
such  utterances  might  be  quoted.  It  is  none  the  less 
true  that  the  ideas  of  justification  and  of  regeneration 
and  sanctification  are  not  kept  clearly  distinct  in  his 
teaching  ;  and  his  confusing  of  them,  and  binding  up 


1  Harnack  says,  “  He  who  disregards  the  formulas,  but  looks  to  the 
spirit,  will  everywhere  find  in  Augustine’s  works  a  stream  of  Pauline 
faith  ”  (v.  88). 

2  Against  Petilian ,  i.  8.  Cf.  A  similar  and  striking  passage  from 
Ambrose  in  Harnack,  v.  51. 


144 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


of  both  with  baptism,  had  a  further  obscuring  influence 
on  his  treatment  of  the  forgiveness  of  post- baptismal 
sin.1 

A  second  point  of  difference  between  Augustine’s 
theology  and  later  (Calvinistic)  Protestantism  is  in  his 
doctrine  of  predestination.  Both  Augustine  and 
Calvin  (most  of  the  other  Reformers  likewise)  were 
strict  predestinarians.  But  it  is  evident  that  Augustine 
was  involved  in  a  difficulty  here  by  his  acceptance  at 
the  same  time  of  the  Church  doctrine  of  baptismal 
regeneration.  For  if  all  the  baptised  are  regenerated, 
and  if  baptism  is  administered  at  the  will  of  man,  what 
becomes  of  the  sovereignty  of  divine  grace,  or  of  the 
certainty  of  election  ?  It  seems  difficult  to  combine  a 
doctrine  of  election  with  another  which  makes  every 
properly  baptised  person  a  child  of  God.  The  way  in 
which  Augustine  got  over  this  difficulty  was  by  making 
the  test  of  election  to  be,  not  regeneration  simply,  but 
perseverance.  All  the  baptised  are  regenerate,  but  only 
the  truly  elect  have  the  grace  of  perseverance.2  This 
clearly  is  not  satisfactory ;  for  if  there  is  to  be  a 
distinction  between  elect  and  non-elect  at  all,  it  ought 
surely  to  be  made  to  turn  on  the  reality  of  regenera¬ 
tion  in  the  one  as  compared  with  the  other  ;  whereas 
Augustine  allows  both  to  be  regenerated  and  justified,3 
only  the  one  receives  the  grace  of  perseverance, 
and  the  other  does  not.  The  truth  is,  no  consistent 
theory  of  predestination  can  ever  be  united  with  a 

1  Cf.  Lect.  VIII. 

2  Cf.  especially  the  treatises  on  Rebuke  and  Grace ,  on  Predestination , 
and  on  Per sever a7ice. 

3  Dr.  Mozley,  in  his  Primitive  Doctrine  of  Baptismal  Regeneration, 
supposes  that  Augustine  speaks  of  the  baptised  as  regenerate  only  hypotheti- 
cally ,  and  regards  the  elect  alone  as  actually  regenerated.  This  seems  to 
me  to  strain  Augustine’s  language  ;  still  passages  may  be  pointed  to,  as  in 
Rebuke  and  Grace ,  22,  in  which  a  difference  of  spiritual  state  seems 
implied  from  the  first. 


DOCTRINE  OF  GOD  AND  THE  SOUL 


MS 


consistent  theory  of  baptismal  regeneration,1  and  churches 
which  hold  to  the  latter  are  compelled  to  modify,  or 
give  up,  Augustine’s  view  on  the  former. 

II.  I  proceed  now  to  the  direct  consideration  of  the 
Augustinian  system,  which  has  had  so  remarkable  an 
influence  on  subseauent  theology.  Augustine’s  system 
was  matured  in  his  own  mind  fully  ten  years  before  the 
Pelagian  controversy  broke  out.  It  will  be  convenient, 
therefore,  that  I  should  exhibit  the  main  positions  of 
his  theology,  at  the  outset,  apart  from  the  Pelagian 
opposition  ;  then  that  these  should  be  looked  at  in 
connection  with  this  controversy,  in  which  the  real 
bearings  of  his  principles  first  became  completely 
manifest. 

The  starting-point  for  a  right  comprehension  of 
Augustine’s  system  undoubtedly  lies  in  his  doctrine  of 
God,  and  of  the  souls  relation  to  Him .  Augustine  does 
not  start,  as  the  Eastern  Church  did,  with  a  speculative 
doctrine  of  the  Godhead, — though  he  agrees  with  that 
church  in  its  decisions  on  the  Trinity, — but  with  him 
God  and  the  soul  are  always  viewed  in  relation  to  each 
other.  God  is  the  chief  good  of  the  soul ;  the  soul  is 
made  for  God ;  and  even  in  its  unfallen  state  was 
never  intended  to  subsist  apart  from  Him,  or  otherwise 
than  in  continual  dependence  on  Him.  Whereas  the 
Pelagian  doctrine,  as  we  shall  see,  would  represent  man 
as  holding  naturally  a  middle  ground  between  good 
and  evil,  and  capable  of  realising  his  destiny  through 
reason  and  free-will,  without  further  help  from  God, 
Augustine  laid  stress  on  the  fact  that,  even  as  sinless, 
man  could  only  realise  his  destiny  through  a  habitual 
dependence  on  God  —  the  constant  drawing  of  the 
supplies  of  his  life  from  Him.  Communion  with  God 

1  This  Mozley  would  admit. 

L 


146 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


was  the  condition  of  all  true  blessedness  and  freedom. 
The  soul  is  not  a  self-acting  unit,  but  a  receptive 
vessel  ;  and  its  life  consists  in  God  continually  im¬ 
parting  Himself  to  it,  sustaining  it,  and  informing  it 
with  goodness.  This  is,  no  doubt,  a  very  different 
conception  from  that  of  our  modern  evolutionary 
philosophy  :  but  the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  it  will 
be  found  vitally  to  affect  the  character  of  a  theological 
system  all  through. 

But,  second ,  from  this  fundamental  position  Augus¬ 
tine  derives,  next,  his  doctrine  of  sin.  In  opposition  to 
the  Manichaeans,  he  emphasises  the  voluntary  nature 
of  sin  ;1  2  that  is,  he  takes  it,  as  I  have  said,  from  the 
nature  basis  on  which  the  Manichaeans  put  it,  and  places 
it  upon  an  ethical  one.  The  act  of  sin,  he  nevertheless 
holds,  in  breaking  up  the  original  communion  of  the 
soul  with  God,  and  cutting  it  off  from  its  source  of  life 
and  sustenance  in  Him,  brings  it  under  the  dominion 
of  an  evil  necessity.3  It  can  no  longer  realise  its 
destiny,  or  will  that  true  good  which  has  its  principle 
in  love  to  God.  This  does  not  mean  that  the  soul 
loses  all  sense  of  its  original  relation  to  God,  or  ceases 
to  long  and  sigh  after  Him.  But  it  means  that  it  has 
no  longer  the  power  to  realise  the  true  end  of  its  being, 
and,  through  ignorance  and  evil  habit,  sinks  constantly 
deeper  into  bondage.  Augustine’s  analysis  of  the 
origin  and  nature  of  sin  is  very  subtle.  Its  essence 
lies,  he  holds,  in  defection  from  God — the  Supreme 

1  This  is  the  keynote  of  the  Confessions  (cf.  i.  1-5,  20  ;  ii.  5,  6  ;  iii. 
6;  vii.  17,  etc.)  and  Letters  (Harnack  emphasises  the  expression  in  Ep. 
155,  “It  is  good  for  me  to  cleave  to  God”).  See  also  his  Christian 
Doctrine ,  i.  5?  22 j  etc.  ;  Enchiridion ,  106  ;  and  the  Anti- Pelagian  works 
generally. 

2  Confessions ,  vii.  16  ;  Rebuke  and  Grace ,  28,  31  ;  Enchiridion ,  105. 

3  Grace  and  Free-will ,  31  ;  Rebuke  and  Grace 2,  etc. 


AUGUSTINE'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SIN 


147 


Good  and  Source  of  life.  It  is  not,  therefore,  as  he 
thought  in  his  Manichsean  days,  something  positive, 
but  is  negative — a  privation ,  or  the  result  of  a  priva¬ 
tion  ;  not  an  addition  to  existence,  but  a  subtraction 
from  existence,  which  issues  in  positive  corruption. 
We  have  an  analogy  in  the  living  organism,  which, 
while  the  vital  functions  are  healthily  performed,  is 
sustained  in  integrity  and  beauty,  but,  when  the  vital 
principle  is  withdrawn,  falls  a  prey  to  the  forces  of 
decomposition.  In  one  sense  the  decomposition — cor¬ 
ruption — which  ensues  is  something  positive;  in  another, 
it  is  the  result  of  the  withdrawal,  or  subtraction,  of  a 
force  essential  to  the  being.  As  disease  and  death,  it 
results  from  privation}  The  root- principle  of  sin 
Augustine  finds,  not  in  the  solicitations  of  sense,  but 
in  self-love ;  for  only  when  the  soul  has  already  in¬ 
wardly  fallen  through  substitution  of  the  love  of  self 
for  the  love  of  God  have  the  solicitations  of  sense  power 
over  it.2  In  Kant’s  phrase,  sin  results  when  a 
“  maxim  ”  contrary  to  the  love  of  God  is  taken  into 
the  will.  The  general  result  of  defection  from  God  is 
concupiscence ,  or  the  inordinate  power  of  sensuous  desire, 
as  against  the  law  of  reason  in  the  soul.  From  sin, 
and  the  disturbance  it  introduces,  comes  death .  For 
man,  Augustine  held,  was  created  by  God,  as  became 
a  moral  intelligence,  not  in  a  neutral  condition,  but  in 
possession  of  holiness  and  freedom,  yet  capable  of 
abusing  that  freedom  to  his  own  hurt.  He  was  not, 
as  created,  immortal,  in  the  sense  of  being  raised  above 
the  power  of  death,  but  he  had  the  capacity  of  (bodily) 
immortality.3  Had  he  proved  obedient,  he  would  have 

1  Cf.  Enchiridion ,  11. 

2  Cf.  on  Forgiveness  of  Sins,  ii.  30;  Grace  of  Christ,  i.  17-22.  As 
shown  below,  Augustine  could  not  admit  a  neutral  position  of  the  will. 
A  will  in  principle  must  be  either  good  or  bad. 

3  Cf.  Forgiveness  of  Sins,  i.  2-6. 


148 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


been  confirmed  in  holiness  —  would,  in  Augustine’s 
phrase,  have  passed  from  the  state  of  “  being  able  not 
to  sin  and  die  ”  {posse  non  peccare  et  mori)  to  the  state 
of  “  not  being  able  to  sin  and  die  ”  ( non  posse  peccare  et 
mori) — a  state  like  that  of  the  holy  angels,  or  of  the 
saints  in  glory,  or  of  Christ,  or  like  that  of  God 
Himself.1  For,  as  these  examples  show,  the  highest 
freedom  here  is  one  with  the  highest  necessity  —  if 
necessity  that  can  be  called  which  is  so  complete  an 
establishment  of  the  will  in  goodness  that  defection 
can  be  no  longer  thought  of.  But  man  fell,  and 
through  the  connection  organically  subsisting  between 
him  and  his  descendants,  transmits  his  fallen  nature, 
with  the  guilt  and  corruption  adhering  to  it,  to  his 
posterity.2  Augustine  conceived  of  this  relation  of 
Adam  to  his  posterity,  not  simply,  as  in  the  later 
theology,  federally ,  but  realistically ,  regarding  the  whole 
race  as  germinally  present  in  its  progenitor,  and  sharing 
with  him  in  his  guilt  and  ruin.3  Adam’s  fall  involves 
the  race,  not  by  any  arbitrary  constitution,  but  from 
the  fact  that  potentially  he  was  the  race,  and  that 
what  proceeds  from  a  tainted  and  disordered  source 
must  itself  be  tainted  and  disordered.  It  is  easy  in  a 
doctrinaire  way  to  criticise  this  theory  of  Augustine’s, 
which  yet  has  such  singular  support  in  the  modem 
doctrine  of  heredity  ;  but  it  should  be  observed  that 
the  point  which  the  criticism  really  touches  is  the 
justice  of  an  organic  constitution  of  the  race  at  all. 
For  good  or  for  evil,  the  race  is  not  constituted  on  a 
purely  individualistic,  but  on  an  organic  principle. 
Can  this  be  justified  ?  Few,  I  think,  will  question 

1  Rebuke  and  Grace ,  27-33  ;  Enchiridion ,  105. 

2  Enchiridion ,  26,  27  ;  Nature  and  Grace. ,  3,  5. 

3  Forgiveness  of  Sins,  i.  1 1 .  Augustine  founds  on  Rom.  v.  12,  reading, 
“  in  whoi7i  all  have  sinned.”  But  his  theory  does  not  depend  on  this 
text. 


AUGUSTINE'S  DOCTRINE  OF  GRACE 


149 


that  in  itself  such  a  constitution  is  good,  and,  working 
under  normal  conditions,  is  fitted  to  yield  the  maximum 
of  benefit  to  individuals,  and  to  the  race  as  a  whole  ; 
that  by  means  of  it  the  gains  of  humanity  are  accumu¬ 
lated,  and  handed  on  as  they  could  be  in  no  other 
way.  But  it  is  by  its  working  under  normal  conditions 
that  a  constitution  must  be  judged.  Reverse  its 
working :  convert  it  into  a  system  working  abnormally 
in  contrariety  to  its  true  ends  ;  its  effects  will  be  pro¬ 
portionally  disastrous  to  the  posterity  it  was  designed 
to  bless.  But  does  this  prove  it  unjust  ?  Is  not  the 
vindication  of  the  Creator  complete  when  its  original 
beneficence  is  shown  ? 

This  leads,  in  the  third  place,  to  Augustine’s  doctrine 
of  grace .  We  have  seen  that  Augustine  refuses  to 
contemplate  the  creature,  even  as  unfallen,  as  inde¬ 
pendent  of  God.  Grace  is  needed,  therefore,  even  by 
the  sinless.  Much  more  is  grace  needed  now  that  the 
creature  is  fallen,  and  its  original  freedom  to  good  is 
lost.  Augustine  does  not  deny — here  again  I  touch  a 
common  misrepresentation  of  his  system  —  that  the 
will  has  still  a  certain  natural  freedom  ;  “  is  free,”  as 
he  says,  but  not  “  freed,”  1  i.e.y  is  capable  of  acts  civilly 
good,  nay,  from  a  lower  standpoint,  morally  praise¬ 
worthy.  Still,  as  separated  from  God,  and  lying  under 
guilt  and  the  dominion  of  evil,  man  cannot  will 
that  which  is  good  in  God's  sight.  For  that  only  is 
good  in  God’s  sight  which  springs  from  the  principle 
of  love  of  Himself.2  Man’s  will  stands  in  need,  there¬ 
fore,  not  only  of  aid  and  reinforcement,  but  of  renewal , 

1  Rebuke  and  Grace ,  42. 

2  Hence  the  paradox  of  speaking  of  the  virtues  of  the  heathen  as 
“splendid  sins,”  /.<?.,  acts  relatively  good,  but  wrong  in  ultimate  prin¬ 
ciple.  The  phrase,  however,  though  commonly  attributed  to  Augustine, 
does  not  appear  to  be  found  in  his  writings. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


150 

and  this  God  alone,  in  the  omnipotence  of  His  grace, 
can  give.  Further,  this  work  of  renewal,  in  the  nature 
of  the  case,  is  wholly  of  God — is  a  work  of  grace  from 
first  to  last.  There  is  nothing  in  it  which  man’s  own 
will  is  entitled  to  take  credit  for.  It  is  necessary  to 
understand  Augustine  properly  here,  to  avoid  doing 
injustice  to  his  conceptions.  For  when  Augustine 
speaks  of  divine  grace  as  alone  concerned  in  the  work 
of  human  renewal,  and  above  all  as  “  irresistible  ” — i.e.> 
as  certainly  effectuating  its  result1 — we  are  apt  to  feel 
as  if  human  freedom  were  annihilated.  And  so  it  is 
often  represented.  But  this  is  by  no  means  Augustine’s 
intention,  nor  is  it  really  the  effect  of  his  doctrine. 
When  Augustine  speaks  of  grace  as  “  irresistible,”  what 
he  has  in  view  is  not  a  grace  that  overpowers  the  will,  or 
puts  any  foreign  force  or  pressure  upon  it,  but  a  grace 
which  renews  the  will,  and  restores  to  it  its  true 
freedom  2 — which  so  acts  on  it  that  it  freely  chooses  the 
good— which,  in  familiar  words,  “  persuades  and  enables  ” 
it  to  do  that  which  otherwise  it  would  be  unwilling  or 
powerless  to  do.3  As  little  does  “  irresistible  grace  ” 
mean  that  God  can,  or  does,  override  the  laws  of 
human  nature  He  has  Himself  ordained,  or,  by  a 
sheer  act  of  power,  can  convert  the  individual  at  any 
time  or  under  any  circumstances.  On  such  a  supposi- 

1  Not  “irresistible”  in  the  sense  that  the  natural  will  cannot  resist 
grace,  for  this  is  what  qua  unregenerate  it  is  constantly  doing.  Cf. 
Lecture  IX. 

2  It  is  therefore  an  incorrect  representation  when  the  writer  of  the 
article  on  Pelagius  in  Diet,  of  Christ.  Biog.  says  (iv.  p.  295):  “The 
Augustinian  theory  made  the  action  of  grace  entirely  independent  of  the 
will  ;  it  was  an  irresistible  power  which  forced  the  will.” 

3  “The  freedom  of  the  will  is  defended  in  accordance  with  the  grace 
of  God,  not  in  opposition  to  it ;  because  the  human  will  does  not  attain 
grace  by  freedom,  but  rather  attains  freedom  by  grace.  .  .  .  Because  by 
the  Holy  Spirit  their  will  is  so  much  enkindled  that  they  therefore  can, 
because  they  so  will ,  they  therefore  so  will  because  God  works  in  them 
to  will.” — Rebuke  and  Grace,  17,  38  ;  cf.  Grace  and  Free-will ,  33. 


DELATION  OF  GRACE  TO  FREEDOM 


I5i 

tion  it  would  be  difficult  to  explain  why  means  are 
used  at  all,  or  why  all  are  not  converted.  But  what 
Augustine  holds  is  that  God  can  use  such  means,  can 
so  deal  with  the  individual  in  providence  and  grace,  can 
bring  him  under  such  outer  and  inner  disciplines,  as,  in 
harmony  with,  nay,  through  the  laws  of  human  freedom, 
to  overcome  his  resistance.1  Grace,  thus,  does  not 
enslave  the  will,  but  frees  it.  Here  comes  in  Augus¬ 
tine’s  great  saying,  “  Give  what  Thou  commandest,  and 
command  what  Thou  wilt.” 2  If  it  be  said  that  the 
possession  of  freedom  implies  that,  even  when  grace 
has  done  its  utmost  for  a  soul,  there  is  still  a  possibility 
of  resisting  it,  Augustine  would  reply  that  there  is  a 
higher  freedom  still — that  in  which  even  the  desire  to 
resist  the  good  is  overcome,  and  which  therefore  certainly , 
but  not  the  less  freely,  chooses  God.  Grace,  accordingly, 
with  Augustine,  as  with  Paul,  is  the  first  as  well  as  the 
last  word  in  our  salvation.  It  is  the  source  of  every¬ 
thing  good  in  us.  Through  this  conception,  while 
accepting  the  Catholic  doctrine  of  merits,  he  succeeds 
in  transforming  it  in  an  essentially  evangelical  sense. 
In  bestowing  eternal  life  as  a  reward,  God,  he  says, 
“  crowns  His  own  gifts,  not  thy  merits.” 3  And,  in 
another  place,  “  It  follows,  then,  beyond  all  doubt,  that 
as  your  good  life  is  nothing  else  than  God’s  gift  and 
grace,  so  also  the  eternal  life  which  is  the  recompense 
of  a  good  life  is  the  gift  and  grace  of  God  ;  moreover, 

1  See  specially  his  answer  to  questions  in  his  two  books  addressed  to 
Simplician  of  Milan,  bk.  i.  quest.  2.  Neander  says,  “The  Almighty 
and  all-wise  God  could  find,  in  reference  to  the  different  states  of  men, 
those  means  of  influencing  them  which  must  make  an  impression  on  them 
with  inward  necessity,  so  that,  awakened,  drawn,  touched,  and  enlight¬ 
ened,  they  would  follow,  without  being  conscious  of  any  resistance  against 
the  grace  operating”  (iv.  p.  297). 

2  Confessions ,  x.  19,  31,  37  ;  cf.  Grace  and  Free-will ,  32  ;  On  Per¬ 

severance ,  ii.  53,  etc. 


152 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


it  is  a  free  and  gratuitous  gift  of  which  it  is  the  recom¬ 
pense.  But  the  good  life,  thus  rewarded,  is  solely  and 
simply  grace  ;  therefore  the  eternal  life  which  is  its 
reward — and  because  it  is  its  reward — is  grace  for  grace, 
as  if  it  were  the  remuneration  of  righteousness  ;  in 
order  that  that  may  be  realised,  because  it  is  true 
that  God  ‘  shall  reward  every  man  according  to  his 
works.’  ” 1 

From  the  preceding  doctrines  as  premises  follows 
now,  fourth ,  Augustine’s  doctrine  of  predestination. 
Reduced  to  its  essence,  this  doctrine  is  simply  the 
assertion  that  what  God  does  in  time  in  the  salvation 
of  the  believer,  He  willed  to  do  in  eternity.  In  his 
earlier  writings,  Augustine  was  disposed  to  regard  pre¬ 
destination  as  conditional  on  man’s  free-will  and  faith, 
and  thus  he  endeavoured  to  interpret  Romans  ix.  God 
elected  the  person  whom  He  foreknew  as  one  that 
would  believe  on  Him.2  But  soon  after,  as  his  thought 
matured,  he  saw  that  consistency  with  his  doctrine  of 
grace,  equally  with  the  fair  interpretation  of  Scripture, 
required  him  to  regard  good  willing  as  itself  the  effect 
of  grace — God  working  in  us  to  will  and  do  of  His 
good  pleasure — and  his  doctrine  of  predestination  was 
modified  accordingly.  Always  and  everywhere  pre¬ 
destination  is  viewed  by  him  in  this  strict  connection 
with  salvation.  It  is  the  salvation  of  the  believer 
viewed,  if  we  may  so  say,  sub  specie  ceternitatis.  It  is 
always  predestination  to  life  and  salvation,  never  to 
sin  and  death.  Thus  regarded — whatever  speculative 
difficulties  may  attend  it — it  is  simply  the  expression  of 
an  experience  which  lies  at  the  root  of  all  genuine 
Christian  consciousness,  viz.,  that  in  this  matter  of 


1  Grace  and  Freewill,  20;  cf.  Calvin,  Instit.  iii.  15. 

2  Cf.  his  retractation  of  these  views  in  his  treatise  On  Predestination ,  7. 


DOCTRINE  OF  PREDESTINATION 


153 


personal  salvation,  the  last  word  is  always  grace,  not 
nature  ;  that  it  is  not  our  willing  and  running  which  has 
brought  us  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  but  His  mercy  ; 
that  it  is  He  who  first  enkindled  in  us  the  desire  after 
Himself,  who  drew  us  to  Himself,  who  bore  with  us  in 
our  waywardness  and  resistance  to  His  Spirit,  who  step 
by  step  overcame  that  resistance,  and  brought  us  finally 
into  the  number  of  His  children  ;  and  that  all  this  was 
no  afterthought  of  God,  but  an  eternal  counsel  of  His 
love  which  has  now  effectuated  itself  in  our  salvation. 
This  is  the  religious  interest  in  the  doctrine  of  pre¬ 
destination  which  gives  it  its  abiding  value.  As  a 
religious  experience,  no  one  would  think  of  questioning 
that  the  fundamental  attitude  of  the  Christian  spirit  is 
one  which  ascribes  all  to  grace  in  its  salvation  ;  that 
any  thought  of  a  divided  claim — of  a  partitioning  out  of 
so  much  to  God,  and  so  much  to  self — is  abhorrent  to 
sound  Christian  feeling.  It  is  when  this  religious  ex¬ 
perience  is  turned  round,  and  made,  as  the  Ritschlians 
would  say,  the  subject  of  theoretic  reflection,  that  diffi¬ 
culties  arise.  What  these  difficulties  are,  and  how  they 
may  be  dealt  with,  had  better  be  postponed  till  we  have 
considered  the  Pelagian  opposition. 

III.  It  was  in  the  Pelagian  controversy  that  the 
principles  laid  down  by  Augustine  were  tested  by  being 
confronted  with  their  logical  opposites.  It  was  inevit¬ 
able  in  the  nature  of  things  that  such  a  conflict  as  that 
represented  by  this  controversy  should  arise.  No  such 
profound  treatment  of  the  problems  of  sin  and  grace 
had  before  been  attempted,  and  some  of  Augustine’s 
positions  were  new  to  the  Church.  The  Eastern  branch 
of  the  Church,  in  particular,  had  never  gone  deeply  into 
this  class  of  questions.  It  laid  hold  by  preference  of 
the  element  of  freedom  in  human  nature,  and  gave 


154 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


prominence  to  that  in  opposition  to  pagan  ideas  of  fate 
and  destiny.  That  human  nature  had  been  weakened 
by  the  fall — had  become  subject  to  sensuous  tempta¬ 
tion,  to  the  dominion  of  Satan,  and  to  death — was 
indeed  acknowledged,  and  the  impartation  of  a  new 
and  supernatural  life  in  baptism  was  held  fast.  But  it 
was  deemed  sufficient,  as  Neander  remarks,1  to  affirm 
grace  and  free-will  side  by  side  with  each  other,  without 
attempting  exactly  to  define  their  relations.  Augustine’s 
more  thorough-going  treatment,  which  derived  every¬ 
thing  in  salvation,  free-will  included,  from  grace,  could 
not  but  come  into  collision  with  this  undue  exaltation 
of  the  powers  of  human  freedom,  with  the  result  of 
bringing  the  issues  clearly  into  view,  and  compelling  a 
decision  between  them.  This  is  what  took  place  in  the 
Pelagian  controversy,  and  bestows  on  that  controversy 
its  importance  as  one  of  the  great  landmarks  in  the 
history  of  doctrine. 

Pelagius,  who  gives  his  name  to  this  controversy, 
was  not,  however,  from  the  east,  but  from  the  west 
He  was  a  monk  of  Britain,  a  man  of  austere  life  and 
blameless  character,  but  without  any  of  those  conflicts 
with  sin,  or  deep  experiences  of  an  all-renewing  grace, 
which  moulded  the  theology  of  Augustine.  He  had 
come  to  Rome,  and  hearing  Augustine’s  words  quoted, 
“Give  what  Thou  commandest,  and  command  what  Thou 
wilt,”  was  very  angry,  and,  says  Augustine,  “  contradict¬ 
ing  somewhat  too  excitedly,  nearly  came  to  a  quarrel 
with  those  who  had  mentioned  them.”  2  He  held,  as 
Kant  did  after,  that  the  giving  of  a  command  pre¬ 
supposes  in  him  who  receives  it  the  power  to  obey  ;  and 
believed  that  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance  in  the 
interests  of  holiness  to  lay  stress  on  man’s  full  and 
1  iv.  p.  279  (Bohn).  2  On  Perseverance ,  53. 


CONTRASTS  WITH  PELAGIANISM 


*55 


complete  power  in  his  natural  strength  to  obey  the 
whole  law  of  God.  Sometime  before  409  A.D.,  he  won 
to  his  side  the  advocate  Ccelestius,  a  man  more  logical 
and  skilful  in  debate  than  himself,  by  whom  the  system 
known  as  Pelagianism  was  really  formulated.1  This 
Pelagian  system  was  in  every  respect  the  direct  anti¬ 
thesis  of  that  which  I  have  described  as  Augustine’s. 
It  will  conduce  to  clearness  if  I  draw  out  some  of  the 
principal  contrasts. 

A  first  contrast  relates  to  the  nature  of  God  and  man. 
Augustine,  as  we  saw,  made  man,  throughout  his  whole 
existence,  dependent  on  God  and  on  the  impartation  of 
His  grace.  Pelagius,  on  the  contrary,  viewed  man  as 
endowed  by  His  Creator  with  reason  and  free-will,  and 
as  capable  thereafter  of  pursuing  his  course,  and  realis¬ 
ing  his  destiny,  independently,  in  virtue  of  his  natural 
powers. 

A  second  contrast  is  as  to  the  nature  of  the  will  and 
freedom .2  Augustine  held  that  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  a  morally  neutral  condition  of  the  will.  A 
will  must  be  either  good  or  bad,  according  as  it  has  for 
its  principle  love  of  God  or  love  of  self.  Pelagius 
viewed  the  will  as  a  natural  faculty  of  choice,  maintain¬ 
ing  itself  unimpaired  in  the  middle  point  between  good 
and  evil,  and  able  freely  to  choose  either.  Freedom,  in 
accordance  with  this,  is  reduced  to  the  bare  power  of 
choice,  and  is  held  to  involve  at  every  point  the  possi¬ 
bility  of  a  contrary  election.  Augustine,  on  the  other 

1  Pelagius  afterwards  repudiated  some  of  the  positions  of  Ccelestius, 
but,  as  Augustine  shows,  disingenuously  ( Original  Sin ,  n,  etc.).  It 
would  be  more  correct  to  say  that  Pelagianism  owes  its  systematic  form  to 
a  third  and  yet  abler  representative,  Julian  of  Eclanum,  against  whom 
Augustine  latterly  wrote  elaborately. 

2  The  treatise  of  Pelagius  on  The  Freedom  of  the  Will  is  criticised,  and 
the  opposite  view  defended,  by  Augustine  in  his  Grace  of  Christ. 


156 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


hand,  placed  the  essence  of  freedom  in  the  power  to 
will  the  good  and  right ;  and  held  that  the  highest 
freedom  is  that  in  which  the  will  is  confirmed  in  good¬ 
ness,  and  raised  above  the  possibility  of  sinning.1  The 
truly  free  man  is  the  virtuous  man  ;  and  the  perfection 
of  virtuous  character  is  not  a  liberty  of  indifferentism, 
but  formed  habits  of  goodness.  Good  character  is 
character  on  which  one  can  depend — on  whose  action 
in  things  moral  one  can  rely  with  the  certainty  of 
reliance  on  a  law  of  nature.2 

A  third  and  weighty  contrast  in  the  systems  is  as  to 
the  nature  of  virtue  and  vice — whether,  that  is  to  say, 
these  consist  solely  in  acts ,  or  do  not  reside  also  in 
dispositions  ;  above  all,  whether  good  or  evil  quality  can 
attach  to  inborn  or  hereditary  dispositions.  Pelagius 
took  the  view  that  responsibility  cannot  attach  to  man 
for  anything  that  is  not  the  free  product  of  his  own 
will — for  anything,  therefore,  that  is  hereditary.  This 
excludes  the  possibility  of  original  or  hereditary  sin. 
Augustine  held,  on  the  contrary,  that  good  or  evil 
inheres  in  dispositions  as  well  as  in  acts — nay,  that 
good  dispositions  must  precede  good  volition,  and  that 
it  is  they  which  give  their  moral  quality  to  the  acts. 
The  supreme  command  of  the  law,  eg.,  is  that  we  love 
God.  But  we  do  not  create  love  to  God  by  our  acts  ; 
we  must  have  the  love  of  God  before  we  can  do  the 
loving  acts.  The  tree  must  be  good  before  it  can  pro¬ 
duce  the  good  fruit.3  It  is  the  old  question  raised  by 

1  Cf.  Mozley’s  Augustinian  Doct.  of  Predestination ,  p.  62.  Valuable 
suggestions  will  be  found  in  this  work  on  the  whole  subject. 

-  In  common  judgment  also  the  truly  free  man  is  not  the  man  on  whose 
consistency  of  action  no  dependence  can  be  placed — the  unreliable  man — 
the  man  who  may  be  truthful  to-day,  untruthful  to-morrow,  etc.  It  is 
universally  recognised  that  as  character  becomes  established  in  virtue,  it 
can  be  the  more  surely  reckoned  on.  This  is  not  a  detraction  from  freedom, 
but  the  excellence  of  it. 

3  Cf.  Grace  of  Christ ,  20. 


IS  HEREDITARY  DISPOSITION  SINFUL? 


*57 


Aristotle — Is  a  man  virtuous  because  he  does  virtuous 
acts,  or  are  the  acts  virtuous,  because  they  are  the  acts 
of  a  virtuous  man  ? 1  It  is  more  frequently,  however, 
with  regard  to  vicious  dispositions  than  to  good  ones,  that 
the  question  is  raised,  whether  they  can  be  hereditary, 
and,  if  they  are,  whether  men  can  be  held  responsible 
for  them.  We  naturally  give  men  credit  for  their  good 
dispositions,  whether  inborn  or  not.  But  are  there  in¬ 
born  vicious  dispositions  ?  Augustine  would  unhesitat¬ 
ingly  answer  “Yes,”  and  would  point  in  proof  to 
the  mean,  spiteful,  selfish,  malevolent  traits  in  human 
character,  which  often  display  themselves  from  childhood 
— qualities  which  we  instinctively  reprobate  and  con¬ 
demn.2  These  qualities,  as  ethically  evil,  must,  he 
would  grant,  have  a  voluntary  origin  ;  but  the  origin 
goes  back  beyond  our  personal  wills — goes  back  to  the 
beginning  of  the  race.  There  is,  in  other  words,  a  race- 
life,  as  well  as  an  individual  life,  in  the  evil  of  which  we 
are  involved.  The  presence  of  a  moral  disturbance  in 
the  nature — of  an  unholy  dominance  of  the  fleshly  over 
the  spiritual — of  inborn  qualities  which  we  are  com¬ 
pelled  to  pronounce  evil,  is,  he  would  say,  a  fact  of 
experience,  whatever  explanation  we  may  give  of  it. 
Will,  no  doubt,  early  begins  its  work  on  this  natural 
basis,  converting  it  into  the  material  of  personal  life, 
but  this  does  not  prove  that  original  disposition  is 
without  moral  quality  as  good  or  evil. 

It  is  implied  in  what  has  been  said,  as  a  fourth 
contrast,  that  the  systems  go  widely  asunder  in  what 
relates  to  the  fall  of  man ,  and  its  effects  on  human  nature. 
Augustine,  we  have  seen,  regards  the  fall  as  issuing  in 
the  loss  of  the  power  for  spiritual  good,  and  in  a  corrup¬ 
tion  of  nature  which,  with  a  mortal  state  of  the  body, 


1  Nic.  Ethics ,  ii.  4  ;  cf.  Luther’s  Galatians,  iii.  10. 
2  Cf.  Mozley,  pp.  63-70. 


158 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


descends  to  every  child  of  Adam.  Pelagius,  on  the 
other  hand,  views  the  powers  of  human  nature  as  un¬ 
impaired  by  the  fall,  and  traces  the  prevalence  of  sin  in 
the  world  to  evil  education  and  example.  There  is  no 
“  original  sin,”  or  injury  to  the  moral  nature  derived 
from  Adam.  Children  are  born  into  the  world  as  pure 
and  perfect  as  Adam  was.1  Every  human  being  has 
natural  ability  to  fulfil  the  law  of  God,  and  there  have, 
in  point  of  fact,  been  instances  of  sinless  lives.2 

The  last  contrast  between  the  systems  relates  to  the 
idea  and  operations  of  grace.  We  have  seen  that  with 
Augustine  grace  is  all  in  all  in  the  spiritual  life  :  the 
source  of  all  goodness,  and  of  spiritual  freedom. 
Pelagius  cannot,  in  consistency  with  his  principles, 
admit  the  necessity ,  but  he  grants  the  advantage  of 
grace,  as  an  aid  to  man  in  the  fulfilment  of  his  destiny. 
When  brought  to  the  point,  however,  he  can  only 
explain  grace  in  the  sense  either  of  the  natural  faculties 
themselves,  as  gifts  of  God,  or  of  law  and  doctrine,  or 
of  the  teaching  and  example  of  Christ.  Only  rarely 
does  he  use  expressions  which  might  imply  an  inner 
illumination  and  assistance  of  the  Spirit,  and  such  a 
conception  does  not  appear  to  have  any  real  place  in 
his  system.  As  Augustine  says,  he  speaks  much  of 
grace,  but  when  you  get  to  the  bottom  of  his  meaning, 
you  find  only  “  law  and  doctrine.”  3 

The  main  features  of  the  Pelagian  theory  can  now 
be  briefly  sketched.  Adam,  it  is  taught,  was  naturally 
mortal,  and  death  is  not  the  result  of  his  sin.  Adam’s 

1  See  the  treatises  on  The  Proceedings  against  Petagius,  on  Original 
Sin ,  etc.,  in  which  these  views  are  contested  by  Augustine  ;  and  cf. 
Mozley,  pp.  57,  58. 

2  Nature  and  Grace ,  42.  Augustine  is  disposed  to  make  an  exception 
as  regards  actual  (not  original)  sin  in  the  case  of  the  Virgin. 

3  Grace  of  Christy  11,  etc. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  PELAGIUS 


159 


fall  injured  no  one  but  himself,  and  leaves  the  power  of 
human  nature  unimpaired  for  good.  Children  come 
into  the  world  as  perfect  as  Adam  was  before  his  fall, 
i.e .,  there  is  no  hereditary  transmission  of  a  sinful  nature 
or  of  guilt.  Man,  in  his  existing  condition,  is  able 
perfectly  to  keep  the  commandments  of  God,  and  the 
seeming  universality  of  sin  is  the  result  of  education 
and  bad  example.  Pelagius,  nevertheless,  acknowledges 
the  advantage  of  grace  as  a  help  ;  but  grace  is  inter¬ 
preted  of  natural  gifts,  or  is  made  to  consist  wholly,  or 
mainly,  in  something  outward,  as  teaching  or  example. 
In  accordance  with  the  usage  of  the  Church,  he  granted^ 
that  infants  were  to  be  baptized  (a  clear  difficulty  on 
his  theory)  but  he  explained  baptism  as  a  rite  of 
consecration,  or  as  anticipative  of  future  forgiveness. 
Yet  he  illogically  held  that  children  dying  unbaptized 
were  excluded  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  though 
not  from  a  state  of  lower  happiness,  which  he  still 
called  “  eternal  life.” 1  Finally,  as  there  is  no  fall 
or  death  in  Adam,  so  there  is  no  resurrection  in 
Christ. 

IV.  It  is  evident  that  no  two  systems  could  be 
more  absolutely  opposed  in  principle  than  those  now 
delineated.  The  controversy  which  ensued  in  the 
Church  respecting  them  had  three  short  stages.  The 
first  was  at  Carthage ,  in  4 1 1  - 1 2  A.D.,  where  the  opinions 
of  Coelestius  were  condemned  by  a  council ;  the  second 
was  at  Palestine,  in  414-16  A.D.,  where  two  synods  sat 
in  judgment  on  Pelagius,  but  were  misled  by  his  specious 
explanations  to  look  favourably  on  his  cause — the  latter 


1  This  phase  of  the  Pelagian  theory  is  dealt  with  in  the  treatise  on 
Forgiveness  of  Sins  and  Baptism  of  Infants.  Augustine  held,  in  accordance 
with  his  theory  of  baptismal  regeneration,  the  condemnation  of  unbaptized 
infants — a  doctrine  as  unchristian  as  that  of  Pelamus 


i6o 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


even  to  acquit  him  entirely;1  and  the  third,  in  416- 
418  A.D.,  was  at  Rome ,  whither  the  cause  had  been 
referred  by  the  former  of  the  Palestinian  synods.  The 
vacillation  of  the  Roman  bishop  Zozimus  in  this  case 
of  Pelagius  is  a  curious  commentary  on  the  doctrine  of 
Papal  Infallibility.  In  the  first  instance  Zozimus 
cleared  Pelagius,  giving  him  a  certificate  of  orthodoxy, 
and  censuring  his  accusers.  “  Scarcely  could  I  refrain,” 
he  says,  “  from  tears  to  find  men  so  thoroughly  orthodox 
could  yet  be  made  objects  of  suspicion.  Was  there  a 
single  passage  in  the  letter  (of  Pelagius)  where  grace  or 
the  divine  assistance  was  not  mentioned  ?  ”  Afterwards, 
on  a  strong  protest  being  made  by  a  Council  at 
Carthage,  he  reversed  this  decision,  and  gave  judgment 
with  equal  emphasis  against  Pelagius  and  his  adherents, 
anathematising  their  doctrine,  and  deposing  and  banish¬ 
ing  those  who  refused  submission  to  his  decrees.  Finally, 
as  a  fourth  and  supplementary  stage  in  this  controversy, 
it  may  be  mentioned  that  the  doctrines  of  Pelagius 
and  Coelestius  were  condemned,  with  those  of  Nestorius, 
at  the  so-called  ecumenical  Council  of  Ephesus  in 
43  1  A.D.2 

Between  the  extremes  of  these  two  systems — 
Augustinianism  and  Pelagianism — it  was  natural  that 
a  conciliatory  or  mediating  movement  should  arise, 
and  this  is  the  nature  of  the  system  known  as  Semi - 
Pelagianism .  It  needed  such  a  system  to  make  it 
clear  that  the  Augustinian  view  alone,  with  its  strong 
logical  cohesion,  could  hold  the  ground  successfully 
against  Pelagian  attack.  Semi-Pelagianism  denotes  a 

1  At  this  Council  of  Diospolis  (Lydda)  Pelagius  said,  “  I  anathematise 
those  who  hold  these  views.”  “  With  these  words,”  Plarnack  remarks, 
“he  pronounced  judgment  on  himself!  they  were  false”  (v.  p.  180,  E.T.). 

2  Each  of  the  above  stages  drew  forth  important  works  of  Augustine 
on  the  whole  merits  of  the  controversy. 


SEMJ-PELA  GIAN  ISM 


161 


view  which  sought  to  steer  clear  of  difficulty  by  giving 
a  place  in  conversion  to  both  divine  grace  and  human 
will  as  co-ordinate  factors  ;  and  by  basing  predestina¬ 
tion,  as  Augustine  did  earlier,  on  foreseen  faith  and 
obedience.  It  did  not  deny  human  corruption,  but 
regarded  man’s  nature  as  weakened,  or  diseased,  rather 
than  as  fatally  injured,  by  the  fall.  Fallen  human 
nature  retains  an  element  of  freedom  in  virtue  of 
which  it  can  co-operate  with  divine  grace,  and  con¬ 
version  is  the  joint-product  of  the  two  factors.1 
Augustine,  on  the  other  hand,  as  we  saw,  views  the 
will  in  conversion  as  set  in  motion,  and  spiritually 
liberated  by  divine  grace.  These  views,  arising  in 
Augustine’s  later  years,  spread  specially  in  southern 
Gaul.  Their  chief  representative  was  John  Cassian, 
Abbot  of  Massilia  (Marseilles),  whence  the  party  are 
sometimes  called  Massilians.  The  system  had  able 
defenders  during  the  remainder  of  the  fifth  century  (e.g., 
Faustus  of  Rhegium,  Gennadius  of  Massilia),  but  it  was 
too  vague,  lacked  too  much  in  internal  coherence,  to 
stand  permanently  against  the  compactness  of  the 
Augustinian  doctrine.2  Next  century  (529  A.D.)  it  was 
condemned,  and  a  moderate  Augustinianism  vindicated, 
at  the  important  Council  of  Orange,  the  decrees  of 
which  were  sanctioned  by  the  Pope,  Boniface  II.  (530 
A.D.).  On  the  other  hand,  Augustine  had  trouble 
towards  the  end  of  his  life  with  a  section  who  sought 
to  push  his  predestinarian  doctrine  to  an  extreme  of 

1  On  the  logical  difference  of  the  two  views,  see  Mozley,  pp.  4 7,  48. 

2  Baur  judges  Semi-Pelagianism  very  unfavourably.  “This  halving 
and  neutralising,”  he  says,  “this  attempt  at  equal  distribution  of  the  two 
complementary  elements,  not  only  setting  them  apart,  but  also  balancing 
them  with  each  other,  so  that  sometimes  the  one,  sometimes  the  other,  is 
preponderant,  and  thus  within  the  whole  sphere  everything  is  casual  and 
arbitrary,  varying  and  indefinite,  according  to  the  diversity  of  circumstances 
and  individuals,  this  is  characteristic  of  Semi-Pelagianism  throughout,” 
etc.  (quoted  by  Schaff,  Hist.  ii.  p.  858). 

M 


i62 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


fatalism,  and  convert  it  into  an  excuse  for  sin.  Against 
these  troublers  he  wrote  two  important  works  ;  his  view 
found  defenders  also  in  writers  like  Prosper  Aquitanus, 
and  the  author  of  an  anonymous  book  on  the  Calling 
of  the  Gentiles  ( De  Vocatione  Gentium ),  who,  with  great 
skill,  and  no  little  success,  endeavoured  to  present  the 
predestination  doctrine  in  a  form  which  would  soften 
its  apparent  harshness,  and  conciliate  Christian  feeling. 
The  impulse  given  by  Augustine  to  theology  lasted,  as 
already  stated,  through  the  whole  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
Most  of  the  greater  schoolmen,  as  Anselm,  Bernard, 
Peter  the  Lombard,  Aquinas,  Bradwardine,  with  earlier 
scholars,  as  Bede  and  Alcuin,  were  his  disciples.  The 
predestinarian  controversy  had  a  brief  revival  in  the 
ninth  century  in  the  dispute  between  the  monk  Gott- 
schalk  and  Hincmar,  Archbishop  of  Rheims.  Gottschalk 
outdid  Augustine  himself  in  the  rigour  of  his  advocacy 
of  predestination,  while  Hincmar  was  Semi-Pelagian. 
The  views  of  the  latter  were  condemned  at  two  Synods 
— a  proof  of  Augustine’s  influence — but  Gottschalk’s 
extreme  and  intemperate  opinions  caused  his  own 
friends  ultimately  to  desert  him. 

V.  Of  the  massive  system  of  Augustine,  we  shall 
see  afterwards  that  the  best  elements  were  taken  up 
by  the  Reformers,  and  incorporated  in  the  Protestant 
creeds.  There,  I  am  convinced,  in  substance  they  will 
remain.  In  proportion  to  the  thoroughness  of  our 
views  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  its  effects  on  human 
nature — of  the  essential  nature  of  man,  and  of  the 
ruin  sin  has  wrought  in  his  constitution  and  condition 
— will  be  our  estimate  of  their  value  and  importance. 
I  shall  only  at  this  stage  briefly  refer  to  that  part  of 
the  Augustinian  system  which  has  been  the  special 
object  of  hostile  criticism — its  doctrine  of  predestination. 


OBJECTIONS  TO  PREDESTINATION  163 

Criticism  of  this  doctrine  may  take  the  form  of  a 
criticism  of  the  doctrine  of  predestination  in  general,  or 
a  criticism  of  the  particular  shape  in  which  it  was 
held  by  Augustine.  Some  remarks  on  the  latter 
aspect  have  already  been  offered, — especially  on  the  in¬ 
consistency  arising  from  the  combination  of  it  with 
sacramentarian  doctrine.  Of  the  more  fundamental 
objections,  some  will  be  found  to  rest  on  misconcep¬ 
tion  ;  others  would  seem  to  suggest  the  necessity  of  an 
alteration  in  our  point  of  view  in  dealing  with  the  scope 
of  the  divine  purpose, — an  alteration  which  our  modern 
ways  of  thinking,  and  fuller  insight  into  Scripture, 
should  make  easier  for  us. 

A  common  objection  to  the  Augustinian  doctrine 
is  that  it  represents  predestination  to  salvation  as  a 
perfectly  arbitrary  act  of  God — the  decree  of  a  will 
acting  on  no  ground  but  its  own  good  pleasure.1  This 
certainly  is  not  correct.  Augustine,  as  everyone  must 
see  who  apprehends  his  fundamental  positions,  knows 
nothing  of  arbitrary  acts  of  God.  The  grounds  of  the 
divine  action  in  providence  and  grace,  the  last  reasons 
of  the  divine  determinations,  may  be,  doubtless  are, 
to  us  inscrutable,  but  they  are  none  the  less  assuredly 
the  outcome  of  an  eternal  wisdom,  righteousness,  and 
love.  Faith  cannot  falter  in  the  conviction  that  God 
governs  the  world,  and  orders  all  things  in  it,  for  the 
best.  What  Augustine  would  say  is,  that  on  any 
theory  of  the  universe,  the  last  reasons  of  the  constitu¬ 
tion  and  course  of  the  world  must  always  be  sought  for 
in  the  counsel  of  an  eternal  wisdom  which  it  is  beyond 
our  capacity  to  fathom.2  We  all  recognise  this  in 

1  “  Good  pleasure  55  is  an  ambiguous  phrase.  The  evdoida  of  Eph.  i. 
5  has  no  suggestion  of  arbitrariness. 

2  Augustine  invariably  falls  back  on  this  “inscrutability”  in  the  divine 
counsels,  while  maintaining  that  there  can  be  no  injustice  or  partiality  in 


164 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


external  providence — in  the  history  and  distribution  of 
peoples,  and  their  providential  functions  in  the  world  ; 
in  the  diversities  of  rank,  fortune,  privilege,  opportunity, 
gifts  of  individuals  ;  in  the  torturing  enigmas  of  life, 
which  often  so  baffle  and  oppress  us.  But  faith  holds 
fast  by  the  certainty  that  behind  it  all,  if  we  could  only 
see  it,  there  is  a  will  of  righteousness  and  love.  The 
same  sovereignty  is  witnessed  in  the  history  of  revelation 
and  salvation — in  the  call  of  Abraham,  eg.,  and  the  elec¬ 
tion  of  Israel  ;  in  the  distribution  of  privilege  under 
Christianity — some  nations  favoured  with  the  Gospel, 
others  still  in  the  darkness  and  death  of  heathenism  ; 
in  the  diverse  results  which  follow  from  apparently  the 
same  enjoyment  of  privilege.  In  consistency  with  his 
doctrine  of  grace,  Augustine  could  not  but  hold  that 
the  last  grounds  of  all  this,  and  of  individual  salvation, 
must  be  found  in  the  counsel  of  God  ;  but  this  is  a 
counsel  of  eternal  wisdom  and  goodness.1 

A  deeper  criticism,  but  one  still  resting,  to  a  certain 
extent,  on  misapprehension,  relates  to  the  bearings  of 
this  doctrine  on  free-will  and  responsibility.  Here  also 
the  Augustinian  doctrine  is  frequently  burdened  with 
consequences  which  by  no  means  rightfully  belong  to 
it.  As  respects  predestination  proper,  it  should  be 
remembered  that  in  Augustine’s  system  predestination 
only  comes  into  view  in  connection  with  a  race  which 
already  has  lost  its  spiritual  freedom,  and  has  for  its 
end  the  restoration  of  that  freedom,  and  through  this 
the  accomplishment  of  the  divine  purpose  in  salvation. 

God.  Cf.  Rebuke  and  Gjace ,  17,  18,  19;  on  Perseverance ,  18;  Forgive¬ 
ness  of  Sins,  i.  29,  103  ;  Nature  and  Grace ,  66,  etc. 

1  God  to  Augustine  is  supremely  and  essentially  Love.  Cf.  the  re¬ 
marks  of  Harnack,  v.  £i8,  119  :  “as  God  is  in  all  being,  so  He  is  also 
in  love ;  nay,  His  existence  in  being  is  ultimately  identical  with  His 
existence  in  love,”  etc. 


PREDESTINATION  AND  FREEDOM 


165 


Augustine,  however,  goes  deeper  than  this,  and  retorts 
on  the  objector  that  no  tenable  view  of  human 
freedom  relieves  him  of  difficulty  on  this  subject.1  It 
is  an  easy  word  to  use — freedom  ;  but  those  who  use 
it  do  not  always  see  that  they  are  playing  with  an 
unanalysed  notion,  and  that,  if  they  did  analyse  it,  they 
would  find  most  of  their  old  difficulties  returning.  It 
is  thought  by  many,  eg.,  to  get  rid  of  this  difficulty  by 
basing  predestination  on  foreknowledge.2  The  truth  is, 
as  has  often  been  demonstrated,  the  difficulty  returns 
here  in  as  acute  a  form  as  ever.  For  the  question 
immediately  recurs,  how  a  free  act  can  even  be  fore¬ 
known.  A  free  act,  in  the  sense  of  the  objector,  is 
one  which  springs  solely  from  the  will  of  the  creature  ; 
it  has  no  cause  beyond  that  will  ;  it  rests  with  the 
agent  alone  to  say  what  it  shall  be.  This  raises  the 
difficulty  of  supposing  it  to  be  foreknown  what  an 
action  shall  be  before  the  creature  who  alone  is  to 
determine  zvhat  it  shall  be  has  so  much  as  been  brought 
into  existence .3  On  the  other  hand,  granted  that  such 
acts  can  be  foreknown,  no  insuperable  difficulty  attaches 
to  the  supposition  that  they  can  be  taken  up  as  elements 
into  an  all-embracing  divine  plan.4 

A  graver  objection  which  may  be  urged  against  this 

1  Cf.  his  City  of  God ,  Bk.  v.,  and  his  treatise  on  Grace  and  Freedom. 

2  Thus  Augustine  earlier,  the  Semi-Pelagians,  the  Arminians,  etc. 
Cf.  Lecture  IX. 

3  Some  theologians,  accordingly,  e.g.,  Rothe,  Martensen,  Dr.  James 
Morison,  go  so  far  as  to  deny  the  foreknowledge  of  free  acts.  Augustine 
more  philosophically  confesses  and  maintains  both  ( City  of  God,  v.  9,  10). 

4  I  have  said  elsewhere — “  One  thing  is  certain,  that  neither  the 
materialist  nor  the  idealist  of  our  day  can  logically  take  up  the  stone 
against  the  doctrine.  Not  the  school  of  Huxley,  Tyndall,  Maudsley,  or 
Galton,  who  deny  free -agency  from  the  physical  side ;  not  the  school  of 
Mr.  Spencer  or  Mr.  Bain,  who  are  necessitarian  on  the  metaphysical  side  ; 
not  even  the  Hegelian  school,  which,  with  a  higher  aim,  yet  sees  in  all 
things  the  working  out  of  an  eternal  necessity.” — Lecture  on  Calvin  in 
The  Reformers  (1885). 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


1 66 

doctrine  is,  that,  even  if  freed  from  the  charge  of 
arbitrariness,  it  conflicts  with  just  ideas  of  the  divine 
love ,  and,  in  particular,  is  incompatible  with  the  Christian 
belief  in  the  divine  Fatherhood.  Augustine  meets  the 
charge  of  injustice  by  the  plea  that,  seeing  the  whole 
race  is  justly  involved  in  condemnation — a  massa  per- 
ditionis  1 — there  can  be  no  injustice  to  those  passed  by 
in  the  fact  that,  in  God’s  inscrutable  purpose,  some  are 
chosen  to  salvation,  and  others  rejected.  But  even 
supposing  this  granted  (and  I  do  not  suppose  it  can 
quite  satisfy  anyone),  the  question  recurs  —  If  no 
injustice,  what  of  the  love?  The  more  modern  turn 
given  to  the  objection  is — What  of  the  divine  Father¬ 
hood  ?  Even  this  argument,  however,  may  be  over¬ 
driven,  through  not  observing  the  difficulties  which  the 
doctrine  of  the  divine  Fatherhood  has  in  any  case  to 
face  from  the  actual  constitution  of  the  universe.  It  is 
not  always  considered  that  predestination,  in  any  form, 
does  not  alter  in  one  whit  or  degree  the  actual  consti¬ 
tution  of  things  as  history  and  experience  reveal  it  to 
us — does  not  add  one  anomaly  to  those  already  existing 
in  the  universe — does  not  make  one  soul  more  to  be 
saved  or  lost  than  actually  is  saved  or  lost.  If  the 
actual  constitution  of  things  is  ultimately  reconcilable 
with  the  love  or  Fatherhood  of  God — which  ultimately 
it  must  be — it  may  be  fairly  urged  that  predestination, 
which  simply  carries  back  this  state  of  things  to  its  last 
ground  in  the  holy,  wise,  and  good  will  of  God,  must 
be  so  also.2  It  is  but  the  existing  condition  of  things, 

1  Rebuke  and  Grace ,  16  ;  and  repeatedly. 

2  Reflection  will  make  it  clear  that,  seeing  it  rests  ultimately  with  the 
divine  wisdom  to  determine  what,  out  of  the  infinite  possibilities  of  things, 
the  actual  course  of  the  world  shall  be,  it  also  rests  ultimately  with 
the  divine  will  which  of  the  infinity  of  possible  free  acts  shall  be  allowed 
to  eventuate,  or  become  actualities,  and  under  what  conditions.  It  is 
obvious  that  the  slightest  change  in  the  outward  course  of  providence  at 
any  point  would  intercept  and  alter  the  whole  line  of  free  acts,  with  their 


ORGANIC  VIEW  OF  THE  DIVINE  PURPOSE  167 


with  all  its  existing  anomalies,  inequalities,  and 
results  in  salvation  or  loss,  carried  up,  as  already 
said,  into  the  light  of  eternity,  viewed  sub  specie 
ceternitatis. 

Still,  it  is  frankly  to  be  granted  that  so  long  as  this 
doctrine  is  confined  to  the  form  which  it  has  in 
Augustine,  it  is  impossible  to  free  it  wholly  from  the 
appearance  of  conflict  with  that  love  of  God  which  is 
at  the  same  time  asserted  to  be  of  God’s  essence.  An 
indication  of  this  is  seen  in  the  necessity  felt  by  Augus¬ 
tine  of  limiting  to  the  elect  the  force  of  the  passages 
which  speak  of  God’s  will  of  love  to  the  world.1  Where 
then  is  the  defect,  and  wherein  lies  the  possibility  of 
solution  ?  The  fault  of  Augustine’s  doctrine,  I  would 
venture  to  say,  lies  in  its  regarding  the  subject  too 
exclusively  in  its  relation  to  the  individual  salvation, 
and  not  sufficiently  in  connection  with  an  organic  view 
of  the  divine  purpose  in  its  relation  to  the  world  and 
history.  So  long  as  we  abide  by  the  view  of  the 
human  race  as  simply  a  massa  damnata ,  out  of  which, 
for  whatever  holy  and  wise  reasons,  a  selection  is  made 
of  a  certain  number  of  individuals  for  salvation,  we 
cannot  free  this  doctrine  from  an  aspect  of  harshness 
and  partiality.  But  this  is  not  the  full  or  Scriptural 
view  of  the  doctrine.  Election  there  stands  always  in 
connection  with  a  developing  purpose  of  God,  and  has 
for  its  aim,  not  the  exclusion  of  others,  but  the  ultimate 
larger  blessing  and  salvation  of  others.  A  typical 
example  is  furnished  in  the  choice  of  Abraham.  God 

consequences,  proceeding  from  that  point.  But  so  also  at  every  point. 
Freedom,  therefore,  does  not  supersede  foreordination  but  demands  it. 

1  Cf.  his  Rebuke  and  Grace ,  44.  It  is  noteworthy  that  Calvin,  with 
his  sounder  exegetical  sense,  does  not  explain  away  the  natural  larger 
sense  in  such  passages.  Cf.  his  Com.  on  John  iii.  16  ;  and  Ins  tit.  iii.  24, 
16,  etc. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


1 68 

chose  Abraham,  and  made  His  covenant  with  him. 
But  this  was  done,  not  for  Abraham’s  own  sake  only, 
but  in  order  that  in  him  all  families  of  the  earth  should 
be  blessed.1  It  was  election  with  a  view  to  ultimate 
comprehension — the  choice  of  one  with  a  view  to  the 
blessing  of  many.  Only  in  this  way,  by  starting  at 
one  point — with  one  person — and  working  out  to  a 
wider  result,  could  the  divine  end  be  accomplished.  It 
is  the  same  with  the  elect  nation — the  people  of  Israel. 
It  alone  was  chosen  of  the  families  of  the  earth,  but  it 
was  not  as  an  act  of  partiality,  but  with  the  view  that 
it  might,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  be  a  light  to  the 
Gentiles,  and  the  means  of  spreading  the  glory  of  God 
throughout  the  earth.  Augustine,  perhaps,  comes 
nearest  this  point  of  view  when  he  speaks,  as  he 
frequently  does,  of  Christ  Himself  as  the  highest 
example  of  predestination.2  But  Christ — the  elect  one 
— is  the  crowning  proof  that  election  does  not  bear  an 
exclusive  aspect  to  the  world,  but  is  a  means  of  bringing 
blessing  to  it. 

We  must,  therefore,  in  considering  this  subject, 
dismiss  absolutely  from  our  minds  all  idea  of  arbitra¬ 
riness,  and  bring  the  divine  purpose  in  election 
dynamically  into  the  closest  connection  with  the  history 
in  which  it  is  realised.  Only  a  foolish  person  will  ask, 
Why  did  not  God,  by  a  simple  stroke  of  omnipotence, 
change  the  hearts  of  all  men,  instead  of  selecting  one 
Abraham,  or  choosing  one  nation  to  be  the  recipient  of 
His  training,  or  sending  one  Christ  to  a  particular 
people  in  one  age  of  the  world  ?  Why  this  leaving  of 
His  kingdom  to  the  slow  and  unequal  progress  it 

1  Genesis  xii.  3. 

2  E.g. ,  On  Predestination ,  30,  31  ;  On  Perseverance ,  67,  etc.  Thus 
also  Calvin,  Instit.  ii.  17.  1  ;  iii.  22.  1. 


ELECTION  IN  HISTORY 


169 


has  had  through  the  centuries  ?  It  is  safe  to  say  that, 
to  anyone  who  has  even  an  elementary  conception  of 
God’s  methods  of  working  in  providence  and  grace, 
such  a  simultaneous  conversion  of  all  peoples,  by  a 
simple 'exercise  of  divine  power,  is  an  impossible  idea. 
Such  an  one  will  see  at  once  that  the  only  way  in 
which  the  high  ends  God  has  in  view  could  be  attained 
in  harmony  with  the  laws  of  nature  and  freedom  is  the 
way  which  has  been  actually  adopted — that,  viz.,  of 
working  from  one  point  to  another  in  the  line  of 
historical  development — ever  new  vantage-points  being 
established  as  the  way  is  prepared  for  them.  Election 
means  that  it  is  not  of  man’s  own  doing,  or  deserving, 
or  of  aught  but  grace,  that  along  the  whole  line  of 
development,  such  points  are  found  provided,  and 
centres  of  new  influence  established.  Here  another 
error  has  to  be  avoided.  It  is  a  shallow  view  of  the 
divine  election  which  regards  it  as  simply  availing 
itself  of  happy  varieties  of  character  and  temperament 
spontaneously  presenting  themselves  in  history  ;  as  a 
workman,  for  instance,  might  select  from  a  set  of  ready 
made  tools  those  best  suited  for  his  purpose.  There  is 
a  sentence  somewhere  in  Lange’s  Dogmatics  which 
acutely  says — “  Election  presides  at  the  making  of  its 
objects.”  The  appearance  of  great  men  at  particular 
junctures  of  history,  eg.,  is  not  to  be  attributed  to 
chance.  The  question  is  not  simply  how,  a  man  of 
Abraham’s  or  Moses’  gifts  and  qualifications  being 
given,  God  should  use  him  as  He  did  ;  but  rather,  how 
a  man  of  this  mould  came  at  that  precise  juncture  to 
be  there  at  all — broke  out  at  that  precise  point  in  the 
genealogical  tree.  This  is  the  true  problem,  and  the 
solution  can  only  be  found  in  the  working  of  that  self¬ 
same  divine  purpose  which,  from  “  the  foundation  of  the 
world,”  has  been  preparing  the  means  for  its  own 


170 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


realisation.1  The  same  principles  apply  to  the  humblest 
soul  that  God  calls  into  His  Kingdom.  Difficulties 
can  never  be  altogether  removed,  but  if  these  principles 
are  firmly  grasped,  they  afford  us,  I  believe,  a  clue  by 
which  we  may  find  our  way  through  many  intricacies 
of  this  perplexing  subject.  The  one  thing  to  be  held 
fast  is,  that,  whether  we  can  explain  the  mystery  of 
God’s  dealing  with  others  or  not,  our  own  salvation,  if 
we  have  been  brought  into  His  Kingdom,  and  the 
salvation  of  all  who  share  this  drvine  calling,  is  due  to 
an  unsought  and  undeserved  grace.2 

1  Cf.  Gal.  i.  15.  It  is  due  to  Augustine  to  say  that  in  his  City  of  God 
he  shows  more  than  a  glimpse  into  this  organic  character  of  the  divine 
purpose. 

2  This  subject  is  resumed  in  Lecture  IX.,  in  connection  with  Calvinism 
and  Arminianism. 


VI 


The  Doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ — the  Christo- 
logical  Controversies  :  Apollinarian,  Nestorian, 
Eutychian,  Monophysite,  Monothelite  (Fifth 
to  Seventh  Centuries) 


“Faith  is  discovered  by  us  to  be  the  first  movement  towards  salvation  ; 
after  which  fear,  hope,  and  repentance,  advancing  in  company  writh  temperance 
and  patience,  lead  us  to  love  and  knowledge." — Clement  of  Alexandria. 

“  Far  be  it  from  us  to  suppose  that  God  should  hate  in  us  that  by  means 
of  which  He  has  made  us  superior  to  all  other  creatures.  Far  be  it  from  us 
to  suppose  that  we  are  to  believe  in  order  that  we  may  be  under  no  necessity 
of  receiving,  or  of  seeking,  rational  knowledge,  since  we  could  not  even 
believe,  unless  we  were  possessed  of  rational  souls.  Even  this,  too,  is  beyond 
all  question  in  conformity  with  reason,  that  in  some  things  pertaining  to  the 
doctrine  of  salvation,  which  we  are  as  yet  not  able  to  penetrate  by  our 
reason,  faith  precedes  rational  knowledge,  that  so  the  disposition  may  be 
purified  by  faith,  in  order  to  be  in  a  condition,  at  some  future  period,  to 
receive  the  light  of  so  great  a  truth.” — Augustine. 


“  Not  God  converted  into  man,  but  man  glorified  in  God." — Alcuin. 


LECTURE  VI 


The  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ — the  Christological  Con¬ 
troversies  :  Apollinarian,  Nestorian,  Eutychian,  Mono- 
physite,  Monothelite  (Fifth  to  Seventh  Centuries). 

As  the  next  chapter  in  the  history  of  doctrine  we  come 
to  the  long  series  of  controversies  we  call  Christological. 
The  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ  may  be  ap¬ 
proached  either  from  the  side  of  Theology,  the  doctrine 
of  God,  or  from  the  side  of  Soteriology,  the  doctrine  of 
redemption.  It  has  manifest  relations  with  both.  The 
Nicene  affirmation  of  the  oneness  of  essence  of  the 
Son  with  the  Father  at  once  raises  the  question  of  how 
this  divine,  co-essential  Son  is  related  to  the  humanity 
in  which  He  appeared  on  earth.  On  the  other  side, 
the  doctrine  of  redemption  compels  us  to  move  back 
on  the  Person  of  the  Redeemer  as  One  who,  for  the 
adequate  accomplishment  of  Plis  work,  must  be  divine 
as  well  as  human.  It  is  from  this  soteriological  side, 
as  we  shall  see,  that  the  subject  is  approached  by 
Anselm.  While,  however,  the  soteriological  aspect  is 
far  from  overlooked  in  the  ancient  church, 1  it  is 
naturally  by  the  other  pathway  that  we  enter  on  the 
controversies  which  concern  us  here.  These  arose 
primarily  as  the  sequel  of  the  discussions  the  Church 
had  been  engaged  in  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity, 

1  Cf.,  e.g.,  Athanasius  in  his  Incarnation  of  the  Word ,  and  the  Epistle 
of  Leo  in  the  Chalcedonian  disputes. 


174 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


and,  through  the  exhaustive  consideration  of  the  class 
of  questions  which  they  involved,  prepared  the  way  for 
the  soteriological  problem. 

I  said  in  the  first  lecture  that  the  Christological 
controversies  are  among  the  most  unlovely  in  the 
history  of  the  Church — the  most  confusing  also,  and 
perplexed.  One’s  heart  well-nigh  fails  at  the  spectacles 
of  passion,  intrigue,  fanaticism,  and  rancorous  violence 
which  they  exhibit.  How  easy  to  conclude  that 
doctrines  engendered  in  such  an  atmosphere,  having 
reference,  too,  above  all  things,  to  the  Holy  Person  of 
the  Saviour,  so  far  from  aiding  the  apprehension  of 
the  truth,  must  infallibly  bear  on  them  the  stamp  of 
error  !  Yet  this  would  be  a  hasty  judgment.  The 
Spirit  of  God  had  not  left  His  Church,  even  in  the 
midst  of  these  confusions,  but  was  guiding  it,  at  heavy 
cost  to  its  own  peace,  to  a  sure  understanding  of  the 
meaning  of  its  own  beliefs.  It  soon  becomes  evident 
that  there  were  deeper  principles  and  more  vital  issues 
involved  in  these  controversies  than  at  first  sight 
appear.  And  there  were  strong  men  at  every  stage 
who  had  the  power  of  discernment  of  these  larger 
issues,  and  the  wisdom  to  guide  the  Church  to  sound 
decisions  regarding  them.  I  shall  best  consult  the 
ends  I  have  in  view,  if,  neglecting  the  elements  of 
strife  and  passion  which  disfigure  the  outward  course 
of  the  history,  I  seek  to  fix  attention  on  the  real  logic 
of  the  movement,  and  on  the  ideas  and  aims  of  the  men 
who  most  worthily  represent  it. 

For  there  can  be  no  reasonable  question  that  the 
controversies  we  call  Christological  had  their  true 
origin,  not  in  caprice,  but  in  the  necessary  course  of 
the  doctrinal  development — that  their  rising  or  not 


THE  CHRIS T OL  0 GICA L  PROBLEM 


175 


rising  was  not  a  matter  dependent  on  individual  will. 
The  Arian  and  Macedonian  controversies  had  estab¬ 
lished  once  for  all  the  essential  oneness  of  the  Son  and 
Spirit  with  the  Father.  It  was  also  an  integral  part 
of  Christian  faith  that  Christ  had  a  true  and  perfect 
humanity.  But  this  immediately  raised  the  question 
of  how  this  union  of  the  divine  and  human  in  a 
single  Person  was  to  be  positively  conceived.  Christ 
is  divine,  and  He  is  human  (Oedvdpcoiros,  God-Man); 
how  are  these  two  sides  of  His  personality  to  be 
thought  of  as  related  to  each  other  ?  This  is  the 
question  of  Christology  proper,  and  it  was  inevitable 
that,  in  dealing  with  it,  various  solutions  should  be 
attempted,  the  admissibility  or  inadmissibility  of  which 
could  only  be  discovered  after  exhaustive  trial.  One 
easy  mode  of  solution,  of  course,  was  the  suppression 
of  one  or  other  of  the  sides  altogether — either  the 
human  side,  as  with  the  Docetists,  or  the  divine ,  as 
with  the  Unitarians.1  But  this  was  precisely  what 
the  Church  of  the  day,  in  light  of  its  previous 
decisions,  refused  to  do.  It  would  neither  give  up 
Christ’s  true  humanity  ;  nor  would  it  consent  to  sink 
the  truth  of  His  divinity,  or  allow  that  He  was 
divine  only  in  a  metaphorical  or  dynamical  sense. 
It  held  fast  to  the  central  confession  of  a  real  incar¬ 
nation  of  the  eternal  Son ,  and  the  problem  was,  how, 
on  this  assumption,  to  exhibit  the  union  of  the  real 
humanity  with  the  true  divinity  in  one  Person.  One 
thing  which  undeniably  made  the  solution  of  this 
problem  more  difficult  for  the  ancient  Church,  was 
the  tendency  inherited  from  Platonism  to  regard 
humanity  and  divinity  as  in  a  sense  strange  to  each 
other — two  magnitudes,  foreign  and  disparate — which, 

1  So  Harnack  finds  the  root  of  the  difficulty  in  the  doctrine  of  the  two 
natures  which,  accordingly,  he  rejects. 


176 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


therefore,  could  never  truly  be  brought  together.  Even 
Cyril  of  Alexandria  regards  the  divine  and  human  as 
separated  by  an  infinite  gulf,  and  defines  them  by 
opposite  predicates.1  It  is  evident  that  on  this  footing 
any  union  that  is  postulated  will  always  be  more  or  less 
external.  This  may  be  said  to  be  the  radical  weakness 
of  the  old  Christology,  and  probably  the  chief  gain  of 
our  modern  way  of  thinking  on  Christological  questions 
is  that  it  transcends  this  older  dualism,  and  starts  rather 
from  the  side  of  the  affinity  of  the  divine  and  human — 
from  the  idea  of  man  as  capax  infiniti — recognising  a 
God-related  element  in  human  nature,  as  created  in  the 
divine  image,  which  furnishes  a  starting-point  for  the 
conceivability  of  the  incarnation.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  is  possible  to  make  too  much  of  this.  Attempts 
were  made  also  in  the  ancient  Church  to  overcome  this 
dualism  ; 12  and,  even  when  we  have  stated  the  matter 
most  favourably  for  ourselves,  the  essential  difficulty 
remains  of  how  a  true  manhood  and  a  true  godhead 
are  to  be  conceived  of  as  united  in  one  historical 
personality.  And  when  the  subject  is  well  considered, 
we  shall  perhaps  find  reason  to  admire  the  tact  by 
which  the  Church  was  guided,  if  not  to  a  complete 
solution  of  the  mystery,  at  least  to  the  rejection  of  the 
principal  errors  by  which  such  a  solution  is  imperilled. 

This  leads  me  to  observe  that,  to  do  justice  to  the 
Christological  findings  of  the  ancient  Church,  it  is 
necessary  to  keep  in  view  what  precisely  it  was  which 
the  Church  set  before  it  as  its  aim  in  these  decisions. 
Blame  is  frequently  attached  to  it  for  attempting  to 
define  metaphysically  by  a  series  of  subtle  distinctions 

1  Cf.  Dorner,  Person  of  Christ ,  iii.  p.  65  (E.T.).  God,  e.g.,  is  repre¬ 
sented  as  infinite,  unchangeable,  impassible,  etc.  Man  is  the  opposite  of 
all  this — finite,  changeable,  corporeal,  passible,  etc. 

2  Cf.  below,  e.g.,  in  Apollinaris  and  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia. 


ERRORS  IN  CHRISTOLOGY 


1 77 


what  in  the  nature  of  the  case  must  always  transcend 
definition.  In  truth,  however,  what  the  Church  aimed 
at  was  not  so  much  to  furnish  an  exhaustive  definition 
— metaphysical  or  other — of  what  it  always  recognised 
to  be  an  ineffable  “  mystery  of  godliness,”  1  as  rather  to 
maintain  the  integrity  of  the  Christian  fact  against 
theories  and  speculations  which  did  profess  to  explain 
it,  but  in  reality  impinged  upon  and  mutilated  it  in  a 
variety  of  directions.  Christian  faith  may  not  be  able 
to  solve  the  mystery  of  the  incarnation,  but  it  may 
recognise  that  certain  theories  do  conflict  with  vital 
religious  interests,  and  may  feel  called  upon  to  con¬ 
tend  against  them  very  earnestly  on  that  account. 
We  may  be  conscious,  for  example,  of  our  inability  to 
see  into  the  depths  of  this  great  subject,  and  yet  be 
able  to  perceive  very  clearly  that  the  integrity  of 
Christ’s  humanity  is  compromised  by  the  denial  to 
Him  of  a  true  human  soul — which  was  the  error  of 
Apollinaris  ;  further,  that  it  does  not  comport  with  the 
Christian  fact  to  resolve  Christ’s  single  person  into  two 
— which  was  the  error  of  Nestorius  ;  again,  that  there 
is  something  wrong  in  representing  the  nature  of 
Christ  as  a  mixture  or  fusion  of  deity  and  humanity — 
a  tertiuni  quid ,  which  preserves  neither  nature  in  its 
integrity — which  was  the  Eutychian  and  Monophysite 
error  ;  or,  finally,  that  it  is  erroneous  to  restrict  this 
fusion  even  to  the  element  of  will  in  Christ — -which  was 
the  Monothelite  error.  In  opposing  these  various  errors, 
the  Church  did  not  profess  to  be  giving  a  rationale  of 
the  incarnation  on  its  own  account,  but  only  to  be 
warding  off  theories  on  one  side  or  the  other  by  which 
the  integrity  of  the  fact  was  threatened  ;  and  it  will  be 

1  The  watchword  of  the  Alexandrians,  Neander  says,  was  “  the 
ineffable,  incomprehensible,  transcendant  union  of  natures”  (iv.  p.  120). 
Cf.  Harnack,  iv.  p.  174. 

N 


i78 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


exceedingly  difficult  for  any  one  who  truly  believes  in 
the  incarnation,  and  reflects  on  the  meaning  of  his  own 
assertions,  to  show  that  it  went  seriously  astray  in  so 
doing.1  At  the  same  time  it  is  evident  that  a  work  of 
this  kind,  unavoidable  as  it  may  be,  is  fraught  with 
drawbacks  and  dangers.  Around  a  fact  originally 
apprehended  in  the  simplicity  of  Christian  faith  there 
gradually  grows  up,  as  the  result  of  this  process,  a 
scaffolding  or  encasement  of  protective  formulations — 
abstruse,  complex,  scholastic — and  the  temptation  is 
great  to  make  the  acceptance  of  these  a  substitute  for 
faith  itself.  This  is  the  real  peril  of  intellectualism  to 
which  the  Church  is  constantly  exposed  ;  and  the 
remedy  for  it  is  the  continual  reversion  to,  and  habitual 
contemplation  of,  that  living  image  of  Christ  in  the 
Gospels  in  which  all  contrasts  are  harmonised, — 
where  the  divine  and  human  are  seen  in  their  actual 
union.  But  it  would  be  as  foolish  to  make  this  an 
objection  to  the  work  of  definition  as  it  would  be  to 
complain  that,  in  our  attitude  to  truth  generally,  we 
cannot  remain  always  at  the  naive,  irreflective  stage  of 
childhood.  For  good  or  evil — doubtless  for  good  rather 
than  evil — questions  emerge  which  force  doctrinal 
reflection  upon  us,  and,  when  they  do  arise,  there  is  no 
alternative  for  the  Church,  any  more  than  for  the 
individual,  but  honestly  to  face  and  deal  with  them. 

Christological  speculation  had  of  necessity  a  place 
in  the  Church  from  the  commencement.  Ebionitic, 
Gnostic,  Patripassian,  Sabellian  theories,  not  less  than 
the  theories  of  Paul  of  Samosata  and  of  Arius,  involved 
the  elements  of  a  Christology.  The  name  “  Christo- 
logical,”  however,  is  specially  appropriated  to  that 
series  of  post-Nicene  discussions  which  issued  in  the 

1  Cf.  an  interesting  passage  in  Mr.  Balfour’s  Foundations  of  Beliefs  p.  279. 


THE  A P OLLINA RIAN  DOCTRINE 


179 


dogmatic  affirmations  of  the  Creeds.  They  embrace 
the  five  controversies  already  named  ;  the  Apollinarian, 
the  Nestorian,  the  Eutychian,  the  Monophysite,  and 
the  Monothelite.  I  have  now  to  ask  you  to  look  at 
these  in  their  historical,  which  will  prove  also  to  be 
their  logical,  connection. 

I.  The  first,  or  Apollinarian,  form  of  Christological 
heresy  goes  back  to  the  fourth  century,  and  is,  in  a 
manner,  a  prelude  to  the  greater  disputes.  The 
simplest  solution  of  the  unity  of  the  divine  and  human 
in  one  Person  which  suggests  itself,  is  obviously  that 
which  supposes  that  in  the  constitution  of  this  Person 
the  divine  Son  or  Logos  takes  the  place  of  the  rational 
soul  in  the  ordinary  human  being.  The  Son  of  God 
takes  to  Him  our  entire  humanity,  saving  only  that  in 
it  which  constitutes  man  a  self.  But  the  personal  self- 
determining  centre  in  man  is  his  rational  soul.  This, 
therefore,  it  is  contended,  Christ  cannot  assume  ;  else 
we  would  have  two  personal  centres,  or  selves,  in  Christ, 
which  is  not  to  be  conceded.  There  appears  no  alterna¬ 
tive  but  that  the  Logos  should  take  the  place  of  the 
rational  soul  in  Christ,  and  this  He  is  supposed  to 
have  done.  This  view  has  affinities  with  both  Arian 
and  Sabellian  speculation  ; 1  but  the  person  by  whom 
(about  375  A.D.)  it  was  brought  to  formal  expression 
was  Apollinaris,  Bishop  of  Laodicea,2  a  worthy  man 
and  follower  of  Athanasius,  well  versed  in  Greek 
learning.  Apollinaris  did  not  deny  to  Christ  the 


1  The  Arians  taught  that  the  Logos  took  the  place  of  a  human  soul  in 
Jesus.  The  opinion  was  evidently  current  in  the  middle  of  the  fourth 
century.  It  was  condemned  by  the  Council  of  Alexandria  in  362  A.D. 
(before  Apollinaris). 

2  Commonly  called  Apollinaris  the  Younger,  to  distinguish  him  from 
his  father  of  the  same  name.  The  remains  of  his  writings  were  collected 
by  Draseke  in  1892. 


i8o 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


possession  of  a  human  soul  in  every  sense.  He  was  a 
trichotomist  in  his  psychology,  i.e.,  distinguished  in  man 
the  three  elements  of  body,  animal  soul,  and  spirit ;  and 
he  granted  that  Christ  had  assumed  into  union  with 
Himself  a  true  body  and  an  animal  soul  ('tyvgfj)y  the 
seat  of  appetite,  passion,  and  desire.  But  the  place  of 
rational  and  self-determining  element  (7 rvevfia)  in  man, 
was  taken,  he  contended,  by  the  Logos  Himself.  It 
could  not  be  otherwise,  he  thought,  if  Christ  was  to  be 
raised  above  mutability,  and  if  duality  was  not  to  be 
introduced  into  His  consciousness.  It  is  plain  that 
there  is  here  a  mutilation  of  the  idea  of  Christ’s  true 
humanity  against  which  the  Church  did  right  to 
protest, — the  introduction  of  a  docetic  element,  as  if,  in 
respect  of  the  soul,  Christ  were  only  seeming  man,  and 
were  withdrawn  from  the  conditions  of  a  true  human 
development.1  Yet  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  think  too 
lightly  of  Apollinaris  and  his  theory.  Apollinaris  was 
really  an  able  thinker,  and  there  is  at  least  one  element 
of  truth  in  his  speculations  to  which  the  Church  of  that 
time  was  not  fitted  to  do  justice.  In  meeting  the 
objection  that  he  denied  a  true  human  soul  to  Christ, 
Apollinaris  took  the  ground  that  this  was  not  the  real 
purport  of  his  doctrine.  The  Logos,  he  held,  does  not 
stand  apart  from  man,  as  something  foreign  to  his 
essence,  but  is  rather  Himself  the  archetype  of  humanity 
— has  the  potency  of  humanity  eternally  within 
Himself.  In  realising,  therefore,  this  eternal  determina¬ 
tion  of  His  nature,  and  becoming  man  in  Christ,  the 
Logos  does  not  simply  take  the  place  of  a  human  soul  ; 
He  becomes  a  human  soul — is  more  truly  human  than 
any  individual  of  the  species.  In  Dorner’s  words — 

1  Athanasius  argued  against  this  doctrine  that  Christ  could  not  redeem 
human  nature  in  its  completeness  if  His  nature  was  not  entirely 
homogeneous  with  ours.  Cf.  Neander,  iv.  p.  104  (Bohn). 


TRUTH  AND  ERROR  IN  A POLLINA R1A NISM  181 


“  The  Logos,  so  far  from  being  foreign  to,  constitutes 
rather  the  perfection  of,  the  humanity.  This  he 
expressed  as  follows  :  ‘  The  irve.vfia  in  Christ  is  human 
Trvevfjba,  although  divine.’  ” 1  There  is  here  a  step 
towards  the  recognition  of  that  inward  kindredness  of 
God  to  the  human  spirit — that  natural  grounding  of 
the  soul  of  man  in  the  Logos  as  the  light  and  life  of 
man 2 — which  must  be  taken  account  of  in  any 
adequate  doctrine  of  the  incarnation.  Since,  however, 
the  avowed  aim  of  Apollinaris  in  identifying  the  soul 
with  the  Logos  was  to  lift  Christ  above  human  mutability 
and  weakness,  it  is  evident  that  the  idea  of  “  becoming 
man  ”  is  very  imperfectly  carried  out.  There  is  an 
important  difference,  besides,  between  a  soul  which  is 
grounded  in  the  Logos,  as  every  human  soul  is,  and  a 
soul  replaced  by  the  Logos  in  Christ,  which  is  the 
Apollinarian  point  of  view.  In  this  latter  assertion,  the 
Church,  in  its  great  teachers,  and  formally  at  the 
Council  of  Constantinople  (381  A.D.),  rightly  recognised 
a  note  of  error,  and  affirmed  against  it  the  possession 
by  Christ  of  a  complete  humanity  —  rational  soul 
included.3 

II.  By  the  rejection  of  the  Apollinarian  view  the 
Church  declared  that  Christ  was  possessed  of  a  true 
and  unimpaired  humanity — had  as  truly  a  human  soul 
as  a  human  body.  But  this  only  raised  in  a  more 

1  Person  of  Christ ,  ii.  p.  371  (E.T.).  Dorner  possibly  reads  rather 
much  into  some  of  the  expressions  of  Apollinaris,  but  in  the  main  his 
exposition  seems  justified.  He  shows  also  that  strange  theories  were 
afloat  at  the  time,  with  some  of  which  Apollinaris  has  been  unjustly 
connected. 

2  John  i.  4. 

3  Harnack  admits,  while  regarding  the  Church  doctrine  of  the  two 
natures  as  contradictory,  that  in  this  controversy,  “by  preserving  the 
thought  of  the  perfect  humanity  of  Christ,  it  did  an  inestimable  service  to 
later  generations  ”  (iv.  p.  163,  E.T.). 


182 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


acute  form  the  question  of  how  this  union  of  the  divine 
and  human  in  His  Person  was  to  be  conceived.  And 
the  solution  which  next  in  order  naturally  presented 
itself  was  that  connected  historically  with  the  name  of 
Nesto7'ius ,  viz.,  that  the  Logos  united  Himself  in  the 
closest  form  of  moral  fellowship  with  the  man  Christ 
Jesus,  without  the  latter  thereby  losing  His  indepen¬ 
dent  personality,  or  becoming,  as  was  alleged  to  be  the 
case  on  the  opposite  view,  a  mere  “  accident  ”  of  the 
Logos.  In  the  Nestorian  controversy,  no  doubt,  many 
secondary  and  often  condemnable  factors  were  at 
work.  Among  them  we  may  notice  the  deep-seated 
jealousy  which  subsisted  between  the  rival  patriarchates 
of  Alexandria  and  Constantinople,  and  the  growing 
veneration  of  the  Church  for  the  Virgin  Mary — a 
veneration  that  found  its  expression  in  the  epithet  6eo- 
to/co?  (Mother  of  God),  which  became  in  a  manner  the 
watchword  of  this  controversy.  But  these  were  after 
all  but  straws  upon  the  surface.  The  real  explana¬ 
tion  of  the  dispute  is  to  be  sought  in  the  trend  of  the 
theological  development,  and  specially  in  the  opposed 
tendencies  of  thought  which  now  reveal  themselves  in 
the  schools  of  Alexandria  and  Antioch  respectively. 
The  Alexandrian  school — from  the  first,  as  we  saw,1 
of  an  idealistic  and  speculative  character  —  received 
about  this  time  a  mystical  tinge  from  Syria  which  dis¬ 
posed  it  to  look  predominatingly  at  the  divine,  or 
transcendental,  side  of  Christ’s  Person,  and  to  view  the 
humanity  as  merged  in,  if  not  absorbed  by,  this  higher 
side.  The  Antiochian  theology,  on  the  other  hand, 
in  accordance  with  its  more  rational  bent,  made  careful 
discrimination  of  the  natures,  and  laboured  to  preserve 
each  in  its  independence  and  distinctness,  with  the 
opposite  peril  of  separating  them  too  far,  and  destroy- 

1  See  above,  p.  83. 


THEOLOGY  OF  THEODORE  OF  MOPSUESTIA  183 


ing  the  unity  of  the  Person.  It  is  in  the  conflict  of 
these  two  tendencies,  each  of  which  had  its  providential 
place  and  side  of  truth,  that  we  are  to  seek  the  key 
to  the  controversies  that  followed.  The  tendency  of 
the  Antiochian  school  is  seen  nowhere  more  clearly 
than  in  the  theology  of  its  most  distinguished  repre¬ 
sentative,  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  fellow-pupil  with 
Chrysostom  of  Diodorus  of  Tarsus,  and  master  of 
Nestorius.  To  his  views,  for  clearness’  sake,  I  must, 
in  the  first  instance,  devote  a  little  attention.1 

Theodore’s  system  is  one  of  the  most  original  and 
carefully  thought-out  of  the  period.  Man  he  conceives 
of  as  the  visible  image  and  representative  of  God  on 
earth — the  bond  of  union  of  the  whole  creation.  With 
Augustine  he  holds  that  true  freedom  is  only  attained 
when  the  soul  is  established  in  goodness,  raised  above 
the  possibility  of  sinning  through  union  with  God. 
But  this  state  he  regards  as  only  to  be  reached  by  a 
process  of  moral  development.  As  originally  created, 
man  was  fallible  and  mortal,  and  had  to  learn  his 
inability  to  stand  in  his  own  strength  by  the  actual 
experience  of  falling.  The  fall,  therefore,  with  the 
sin  and  death  that  resulted  from  it,  is,  in  a  sense,  in 
Theodore’s  system,  a  necessity  of  man’s  natural  con¬ 
dition.2  From  this  state  we  are  restored  by  Christ, 
the  new  Head  of  the  race,  in  whom  the  image  of  God 
in  humanity  is  for  the  first  time  perfectly  realised. 
But  even  the  union  of  the  Logos  with  Christ  does  not 

1  Theodore  died  in  428  A.  D.  His  works  are  known  mostly  in  frag-- 
ments.  The  chief  in  this  connection  are  his  treatises  on  the  Incarnation 
and  against  Apollinaris.  His  creed  may  be  seen  in  Gieseler,  i.  p.  392 
(E.T. ).  On  his  theology,  cf.  Neander,  Dorner,  Harnack,  etc. 

2  Theodore,  at  the  other  end  of  his  system,  was  a  restitutionist — a 
logical  result  of  his  views  of  human  nature  and  the  fall,  if  divine  goodness 
was  to  be  vindicated. 


184 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


exclude  freedom  and  moral  development.  Human 
nature  in  its  completeness,  including  personality,  is 
united  with  the  Logos  from  the  beginning — is  irradi¬ 
ated,  strengthened,  inspired,  sustained  by  it,  and  for 
this  reason  grows  and  matures  with  exceptional 
rapidity — yet  not  without  a  free  ethical  development 
which  appropriates  the  divine  in  all  its  stages. 

This  brings  us  to  Theodore’s  view  of  the  nature 
of  the  union  of  the  divine  and  human  in  Christ. 
Theodore  works  this  out  from  the  point  of  view  of 
“  indwelling  ”  (evoUrjcr^).  What,  then,  is  the  manner 
of  this  indwelling  of  God  in  Christ  ?  He  shows  first 
that  it  is  not  the  indwelling  of  mere  immanence — of 
that  omnipresence  and  energy  by  which  God  is  present 
to  and  in  all  His  creatures.  It  is  not  simply  an 
essential  presence  ( kclt  ovalav),  or  a  presence  in 
energy  (/car  ivepyeiav ).  The  Incarnation  cannot  be 
explained  from  the  mere  immanence  of  God,  for  God 
is  immanent  in  everything.  But  there  is  another  mode 
of  the  presence  of  God  by  which  He  draws  nearer 
to  some  than  to  others,  according  to  their  moral 
dispositions — a  mode  of  indwelling  which  Theodore 
describes  as  one  of  God’s  good  pleasure  (/car  evhofclav). 
It  is  the  peculiar  relation  of  moral  fellowship  in  which 
God  stands  to  those  who  are  fitted  for  it  by  the  spirit 
of  trust  and  obedience.  It  is  thus  God  dwells  in 
believers  ;  thus,  in  a  unique  and  pre-eminent  way,  the 
Logos  dwelt  in  Christ.  The  union  here  is  of  the 
most  perfect  kind  conceivable.  The  human  spirit 
of  Jesus  so  perfectly  appropriates  the  divine  as  to 
become  entirely  one  with  it.  Christ’s  thinking  and 
willing  as  man  are  truly  the  thinking  and  willing  of 
God  in  Him,  yet  is  human  nature  not  thereby  annulled, 
but  rather  raised  to  its  highest  degree  of  perfection. 
On  the  other  side,  the  divine  Son  so  entirely  appro- 


ORIGIN  OF  NESTORIANISM 


185 


priates  and  unites  the  human  nature  with  Himself  as 
to  make  it  the  organ  of  His  personal  -manifestation. 
Through  this  union,  further,  the  humanity  is  made  to 
share,  after  the  ascension,  in  all  the  glory  and  dominion 
of  the  Logos.  This,  it  will  be  felt,  is  an  exceedingly 
able  attempt  to  solve  the  problem  of  the  unity  of  the 
divine  and  human  in  Christ — one,  also,  not  without  its 
elements  of  value.  It  involves  the  recognition,  else¬ 
where  so  often  wanting,  of  the  affinity  of  the  divine 
and  human  which  makes  true  union  possible,  and  is  a 
praiseworthy  attempt  to  do  justice  to  the  ethical  factor  in 
Christ’s  development.  Yet,  with  all  its  ingenuity,  it  will 
be  felt  also  that  it  never  really  gets  beyond  the  most 
perfect  form  of  moral  union  of  two  persons  originally 
distinct.  Theodore  practically  admits  this  by  the 
term  he  uses  to  describe  it.  It  is  a  conjunction  ( avvd - 
<j>€ia)j  or,  again,  is  likened  to  marriage,  in  which  two 
become  one.  It  can  easily  he  understood,  therefore, 
how  the  Alexandrian  school,  with  Cyril  at  its  head, 
should  persistently  oppose  this  doctrine  as  failing  to 
satisfy  the  conditions  of  a  true  incarnation,  and  that 
the  pupils  of  Theodore  should  in  some  instances 
be  disposed  to  go  farther  than  he  himself  did, 
and  undisguisedly  affirm  a  double  personality  in 
Christ. 

This,  accordingly,  is  what  we  now  see  in  the  case  of 
Nestorius,  patriarch  of  Constantinople,  a  well-meaning 
man,  and  noted  zealot  against  Arian  and  other  heresies, 
but  convinced  adherent  of  the  Antiochian  school,  who, 
in  428  A.D.,  drew  down  indignation  on  himself  by  his 
vehement  opposition  to  the  term  #6otoa;o?  (Mother  of 
God),  applied  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  Christotokos  he 
would  allow,  but  not  theotokos  ;  for  the  Logos,  he  said, 
was  not  born  of  Mary,  but  dwelt  in  Him  who  was  born 


1 86 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


of  Mary.1 2  Nestorius  went  considerably  farther  in  his 
separation  of  the  divine  and  human  in  Christ  than  Theo¬ 
dore  would  have  approved,  though  undeniably  he  was 
on  the  same  lines.  The  “  conjunction  ”  (awdcpeca)  of 
the  two  natures  which  Theodore  taught  becomes  with 
Nestorius  little  more  than  a  “  relationship  ”  (cr^eVt?) 
between  them,  an  intimate  moral  fellowship  of  two 
persons.  It  is  this  doctrine  which  Cyril  of  Alexandria 
vigorously  assailed.  Cyril  is  a  personage  for  whom, 
ordinarily,  Church  historians  have  hardly  a  good  word 
to  say.  He  seems  to  have  inherited  too  faithfully  the 
temper  and  method  of  his  violent  and  domineering 
uncle  and  predecessor,  Theophilus  ;  and,  supported  by 
his  monks,  and  crowds  of  fanatical  parabolanf  he  used 
his  position  of  high  influence  in  the  city  with  both  pride 
and  passion.  We  shall  perhaps  judge  him  more  fairly 
if,  acknowledging  the  grave  faults  into  which  ambition 
and  love  of  power  led  him,  we  recognise  with  Dorner, 
Newman,  and  others,3  that  there  were  better  traits  in 
his  character,  and  that,  though  frequently  swayed  by 
prejudice,  he  was  actuated  by  a  more  sincere  love  of 
truth,  and  even  by  a  more  moderate  and  forbearing 
spirit,  than  he  is  usually  credited  with.  His  first  letters 
to  Nestorius  are  calm  and  temperate  in  tone  ;  and  it  is 
remarked  that,  after  the  banishment  of  Nestorius,  no 
violent  act  is  recorded  of  him.  One  thing  certain  is, 
that  as  a  theologian  Cyril  is  facile  princeps  in  this  con¬ 
troversy.4  He  had  no  equal  in  his  day  in  firm  grasp 

1  See  passages  from  his  sermons  in  Gieseler,  i.  p.  394  (E.T.),  and  cf. 
Dorner,  Neander,'  etc.  The  Logos,  he  taught,  dwelt  in  Christ  as  in  a 
temple,  the  humanity  was  the  garment  of  His  divinity,  etc. 

2  Originally  a  corps  for  the  care  of  the  sick.  They  became  afterwards 
a  sort  of  bodyguard  for  the  archbishop,  and  caused  great  disorder  through 
their  turbulence.  Cf.  the  picture  in  Kingsley’s  Hypatia. 

3  Cf.  Dorner,  ii.  p.  55  ;  Newman,  Historical  Sketches ,  ii.  (under 
Theodoret)  ;  Did.  of  Christ.  Biog.  art.  “Cyril.” 

1  Baur  pays  a  high  tribute  to  Cyril  as  a  theologian. 


CYRIL  AND  NESTOR! US 


187 


of  the  issues  involved,  and  in  luminous  and  convincing 
reasoning  on  behalf  of  the  positions  he  upheld.  His 
views,  as  we  shall  see,  are  not  free  from  defects.  Certain 
of  his  expressions  held  within  them  the  germs  of  a 
Monophysitism  which  is  the  justification  of  the  opposi¬ 
tion  shown  to  him  by  Theodoret  and  others  of  the 
Antiochian  school.  But  in  his  polemic  against  Nestorius, 
Cyril  was  unquestionably  in  the  right.  He  justly 
argued  that  on  the  theory  of  Nestorius  there  was  no 
proper  incarnation,  but  only  the  juxtaposition  of  two 
beings,  God  and  man  ;  that  the  Son  of  God  was  little 
more  than  the  guest  of  the  humanity  ;  that  there  existed 
between  them  only  a  relational  conjunction  ( crgert/cr) 
avvd(f)6La).  When  the  question  was  pressed,  How  could 
Christ,  according  to  His  humanity,  be  called  the  Son 
of  God,  or  as  man  be  lawfully  worshipped  ?  the  Nes- 
torians  could  only  reply  by  speaking  of  a  transference 
(. dva(jx)pd )  of  the  name  son  to  the  humanity,  and  suggest¬ 
ing  that  as  a  man  Christ  might  be  worshipped  if  the 
worship  was  directed  in  thought  to  the  indwelling 
Logos.1  The  union  of  the  humanity  with  Godhead 
was  spoken  of  as  union  in  worth  (/car  d^iav),  in  will,  in 
name,  and  so  forth.2  This  plainly  was  not  satisfactory. 

The  essential  point  in  Nestorianism,  then,  is  the 
dissolving  of  the  unity  of  the  personality  in  Christ .  As 
against  the  view  of  the  assumption  of  a  human  nature 
by  a  divine  Person,  the  Nestorians  held  that  there  were 
two  persons — a  divine  and  a  human — subsisting  in 
the  closest  moral  union.  The  Logos  inhabited  the 
humanity,  which  had  a  personality  of  its  own.  This 
was  a  type  of  doctrine  which,  however  plausibly  de¬ 
fended,  could  not  permanently  be  maintained.  Though 

1  Dorner,  ii.  p.  59  ;  thus  also  Theodore. 

2  Cf.  Bruce’s  Humiliation  of  Christy  p.  64. 


1 88 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


supported  for  a  time  by  imperial  authority,  the  battle 
went  steadily  against  it.  Rome  and  Alexandria  united  in 
its  condemnation  ;  finally  the  Council  of  Ephesus — the 
third  so-called  ecumenical  (431  A.D.) — was  summoned 
to  decide  the  question.  It  would  be  unprofitable  to 
dwell  on  the  confusions  that  attended  and  followed  in 
the  wake  of  that  assembly.  After  a  fortnight's  waiting, 
due  to  delay  in  the  arrival  of  John  of  Antioch  and 
his  Syrian  bishops,  Cyril  opened  the  Council  and  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  business.  In  a  day’s  time  Nestorius  was 
condemned,  excommunicated,  and  deposed.  The  im¬ 
perial  commissioner  refused  his  sanction  to  the  pro¬ 
ceedings  ;  on  the  other  hand,  popular  feeling  was 
overwhelmingly  with  the  bishops,  and  the  city  was 
illuminated  on  the  announcement  of  their  decision.  The 
Antiochians,  when  they  came,  were  bitterly  incensed, 
and  held  a  rival  council.  Recriminations,  mutual 
depositions,  imperial  vacillations  ensued  ;  but  in  the 
end  things  remained  as  Cyril’s  Council  had  left  them, 
and  the  unfortunate  Nestorius  was  silently  abandoned 
by  all  parties.  He  died,  after  many  hardships,  in  exile 
(440  A.D.).  In  433  A.D.  a  reconciliation  was  effected 
between  Cyril  and  some  of  the  Antiochian  leaders 
(others,  including  Theodoret,  held  aloof)  on  the  basis 
of  a  mediating  formula— the  Antiochians  accepting  the 
theotokos  and  the  Alexandrians  the  “  unconfused  union  ” 
(ao-vy^vTos)  of  natures.  Theodoret  was  really  the 
author  of  this  formula,  but  he  refused  to  sanction  the 
condemnation  of  Nestorius,  which  he  held  had  been 
illegally  obtained.  Cyril  would  fain  have  included  in 
the  condemnation  the  person  and  writings  of  Diodorus 
and  Theodore,  but  this  proved  beyond  his  power.  We 
shall  find  Theodore  condemned  later  at  the  fifth  Council 
in  553  A.D.1 

1  The  Nestorians,  persecuted  in  Syria,  took  refuge  in  Persia,  and 


RISE  OF  EUTYCHIANISM 


189 


III.  Nestorianism  was  condemned,  but  the  contro¬ 
versy  was  not  thereby  ended.  It  only  entered  on  a 
new  phase — that  known  as  the  Eutychian.  The  Alex¬ 
andrians  took  the  decision  of  the  Council  of  Ephesus  as 
a  victory  for  themselves,  and  the  more  extreme  of  them 
were  fain  to  regard  it  as  a  condemnation  of  the  whole 
Antiochian  position,  with  its  strong  discrimination  of 
the  natures.  Their  own  formula  was  “  one  nature  (/ua 
Ovens)  of  the  Logos  incarnate.”  1  Cyril  himself,  though 
in  words  accepting  the  formula  of  the  unconfused  union 
(acrvyxvTos  ev&crLs),  was  far  from  unambiguous  in  his 
teaching.  He  maintained  the  difference  of  the  natures, 
yet  because  of  the  “  physical  union  ”  (kvoocns  (fivcri/crf), 
could  speak  also  of  “  one  nature  ”  in  Christ  incarnate.2 
In  virtue  of  the  union,  he  freely  took  over  divine  attri¬ 
butes  upon  the  humanity,  eg.,  omniscience,  so  that 
Christ’s  ignorance  was  held  to  be  only  seeming — a 
species  of  “  economy.”  3  After  the  Ephesian  decision, 
these  tendencies  had  fuller  scope.  The  divine  and 
human  natures  might  be  distinguished  in  abstractor  but 
after  the  incarnation  they  were  held  to  be  no  more 
two,  but  one.  The  Alexandrians,  accordingly,  were 
fond  of  expressions  which  brought  out  this  appropria¬ 
tion  and  interchange  of  the  attributes  of  deity  and 
humanity,  as  e.g.,  “  God  was  born,”  “  God  suffered,” 
“  God  was  crucified  for  us.”  The  whole  tendency  of 
the  Antiochian  school,  as  contrasted  with  this,  was 


spread  into  India  and  China.  From  498  a.d.  they  renounced  communion 
with  the  Greek  Church.  The  remnants  of  them  are  found  in  Kurdistan, 
Armenia,  etc. 

1  “  An  expression,”  Harnack  says,  “  taken  from  a  work  of  Apollinaris, 
which  Cyril  considered  as  Athanasian,  because  the  Apollinarians  had 
fathered  it  on  Athanasius”  (iv.  p.  176). 

2  Harnack,  lit  supra  ;  Dorner,  iii.  pp.  57>  68,  75,  etc.  The  sources 
are  Cyril’s  work  against  Nestorius,  his  dialogue  on  the  Incarnation,  his 
epistle  to  Acacius,  etc. 

3  Cf.  Bruce’s  Humiliation  of  Christ pp.  7 1  ‘75- 


190 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


branded  as  Nestorian,  and  vehemently  repudiated. 
Thus  the  controversy  stood  at  Cyril’s  death  in  444  A.D. 
Cyril  was  succeeded  in  Alexandria  by  the  coarse 
Dioscurus,  whose  violence,  unscrupulousness,  and  in¬ 
timidation  of  opponents  are  unrelieved  by  any  redeem¬ 
ing  feature.  With  him,  supported  by  the  great  body 
of  the  Egyptian  monks,  the  doctrine  of  the  “  one 
nature  ”  passed  over  into  an  undisguised  blending  of 
the  divine  and  human,  or  absorption  of  the  human  by 
the  divine.  The  Egyptian  party  had  relations  with 
bodies  of  monks  in  Syria  ;  had  likewise  the  support  of 
the  monastic  communities  in  Palestine  and  Constanti¬ 
nople.  Above  all,  it  was  strong  in  the  support  of  the 
imperial  court — the  feeble  Emperor  Theodosius  being 
completely  ruled  by  his  empress,  Eudocia,  and  the 
unscrupulous  eunuch  Chrysaphius, — and  no  pains  were 
spared  to  crush  the  Antiochian  leaders,  and  especially 
Theodoret. 

The  actual  outbreak  of  the  Eutychian  controversy 
in  448  A.D.,  is  connected,  as  the  name  suggests,  with 
Eutyches,  an  abbot  in  Constantinople,  and  strenuous 
upholder  of  Alexandrian  opinions.  At  a  local  synod, 
presided  over  by  Flavian,  the  patriarch,  who  seems  to 
have  acted  a  fair-minded  and  independent  part, 
Eutyches  was  accused  of  denying  the  distinction  of  the 
natures  in  Christ,  and  of  declaring  that  Christ’s  body 
was  of  different  substance  from  ours.  On  his  admission 
that  these  were  his  beliefs,  he  was  condemned,  deposed, 
and  excommunicated.  His  condemnation,  as  was  to 
be  expected,  created  immense  commotion,  and  stirred 
up  Dioscurus  and  his  following  to  the  most  active 
measures.  Eutyches  complained  of  injustice,  and  clam¬ 
oured  for  a  council,  and  both  he  and  Flavian  sought 
to  gain  the  support  of  the  influential  Leo,  Bishop  of 


THE  “  COUNCIL  OF  ROBBERS  ” 


I9I 

Rome.  Leo,  a  man  of  strong  practical  judgment,  gave 
his  verdict  decisively  against  Eutyches,  and,  in  view  of 
a  general  council  which  the  emperor  had  now  sum¬ 
moned,  wrote  to  Flavian  a  long  doctrinal  epistle' — his 
famous  “Tome”  —  which  became  later  the  basis  of 
the  decision  at  Chalcedon.  I  need  not  dwell  on  the 
proceedings  of  the  Council  at  Ephesus  held  in  449 
A.D.,  which,  from  its  unexampled  unfairness  and 
violence,  earned  for  itself  the  name  of  the  “  Council  of 
Robbers  ”  ( Latrocinium ),  by  which  it  has  been  ever  since 
known.  At  this  Council,  presided  over  by  Dioscurus, 
Eutyches  was  cleared,  Theodoret  deposed,  and  Flavian 
so  cruelly  maltreated  that  he  died  a  few  days  later.1 
The  decisions  of  a  Council  of  this  kind,  obtained  by  the 
grossest  terrorism,  could  have  no  moral  weight,  and 
they  were  immediately  repudiated  by  a  synod  held  at 
Rome.  There  was  difficulty  in  getting  the  matter 
re-opened,  but  a  revolution  at  Court,  which  occurred  at 
this  juncture,  altered  the  aspect  of  affairs,2  and  prepared 
the  way  for  the  summoning  of  a  new  Council — that 
which  finally  convened  at  Chalcedon  (451  A.D.),  and 
ranks  as  the  fourth  ecumenical.  With  this  Council — 
the  largest  in  point  of  numbers  yet  held3- — we  reach 
a  distinct  landmark  in  the  history  of  dogma.  Its 
importance  arises  from  the  fact  that  it  was  the  first 
Council  after  Nicaea  which  ventured  on  the  composition 
of  a  new  Creed.  Its  initial  proceedings,  when  the 
charges  against  Dioscurus  were  being  inquired  into, 
were  sufficiently  tumultuous.  But  Dioscurus  speedily 

1  Harnack  strangely  constitutes  himself  the  apologist  of  Dioscurus  and 
his  Council,  and  shows  a  bias  against  Flavian  which  seems  unwarranted 
(iv.  pp.  209-10).  Cf.  Neander’s  account. 

2  Chrysaphius  was  banished  and  Eudocia  driven  into  exile.  Pulcheria, 
the  sister  of  Theodosius,  gained  the  ascendency,  and  after  the  death 
of  Theodosius  gave  her  hand  to  Marcian,  who  became  emperor.  He 
summoned  the  Council  of  Chalcedon. 

3  520  bishops  were  present. 


192 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


found  himself  deserted  by  all  save  some  thirteen 
Egyptian  bishops.  A  Creed  was  ultimately  framed  on 
the  basis  of  Leo’s  letter,  and,  apart  from  these  dis¬ 
sentients,  obtained  universal  approval.  Shouts  were 
raised,  “  This  is  the  faith  of  the  Fathers.  This  is  the 
faith  of  the  Apostles.  We  all  agree  to  this.”  Dioscurus 
ended  his  unworthy  career  in  banishment. 

A  few  words  are  necessary  on  this  Chalcedonian 
Creed,  which  marks  the  real  turning-point  in  the 
Christological  controversies,  and  has  held  its  ground 
through  so  many  centuries  as  of  ecumenical  authority. 
It  is  a  lengthy  document,  but  the  essential  sentence  in 
it  is  that  now  to  be  quoted.  After  endorsing  the 
Creeds  of  Nicsea  and  Constantinople,  and  accepting  as 
valid  Cyril’s  letters  against  Nestorius,  and  Leo’s  letter 
to  Flavian,  it  goes  on  to  define  the  true  doctrine  of 
Christ’s  Person  in  the  following  terms — “  One  and  the 
same  Christ,  Son,  Lord,  only-begotten,  confessed  in  two 
natures,1  without  confusion,  without  conversion,  without 
division,  without  separation  ”  (acrvyyyT  arpeTTrcos, 
aBiatperco ?,  a^copicrrco^).  The  significance  of  these 
predicates  will  be  readily  perceived.  The  two  former 
are  directed  against  Eutyches,  with  his  confusion  or 
conversion  of  the  natures  ;  the  two  latter  against 
Nestorius,  with  his  division  or  separation  of  them.  The 
aim  of  the  Creed,  therefore,  is  to  assert  the  unity  of  the 
Person  along  with  the  distinctness  of  the  natures.  In 
theological  tendency,  it  will  be  seen  that  it  has  more 
affinity  with  the  Antiochian  than  with  the  Alexandrian 
mode  of  thinking,  and  it  indicates  correctly  enough  the 


1  In  the  Greek  text  the  words  stand  €k  5vo  (pvaewv,  but  this,  it  is  gener¬ 
ally  recognised,  is  a  misreading  for  iv  duo  <puaecn  (in  duabus  naturis ),  the 
form  insisted  on  by  the  Council.  Baur  and  Dorner  are  nearly  alone  in 
thinking  otherwise. 


THE  CHALCEDONIAN  FORMULA 


193 


errors  to  be  avoided.  But  this,  which  is  its  strength,  is, 
from  a  theological  point  of  view,  its  weakness.  It  states 
the  factors  for  us,  but  gives  us  no  help  to  a  positive 
solution  of  the  problem  they  involve.  It  puts  the 
predicates  alongside  of  each  other,  but  does  nothing  to 
show  their  compatibility  and  mutual  relationship.  If  I 
may  say  so,  the  formula  resembles  the  statement  of  the 
terms  in  a  proportion  sum  :  it  gives  the  ratios,  but  does 
not  work  out  the  sum.  Perhaps  it  was  better  that  it 
should  do  so  ;  should  stop  with  the  warding  off  of 
errors,  and  should  leave  the  attempts  at  positive  con¬ 
struction  to  theology.  The  curious  thing  is  that  this 
Creed,  with  its  unspeculative  character — a  product  of 
the  Latin  practical  genius — should  be  held  to  be  a 
creation  of  Greek  metaphysics.1  Metaphysics  is  the 
last  thing  you  will  find  in  it.  It  puts  the  factors,  as  I 
say,  side  by  side,  without  any  attempt  at  showing  the 
possibility  of  their  combination.  There  is  one  remark 
more  that  must  be  made  on  it.  A  perfectly  true  Creed 
in  what  it  negates,  there  is  yet  an  element  of  truth  in 
the  Alexandrian  or  Monophysite  view  to  which  it  fails  to 
do  justice.  It  is  the  presence  of  this  truth  which  is  the 
vitalising  element  in  the  controversies  that  follow,  for 
men  felt  it  even  when  they  could  not  state  it  properly, 
and  would  not  let  it  be  suppressed.  There  was  the  in¬ 
eradicable  conviction  that,  however  the  union  of  the 
divine  and  human  in  the  Person  of  Jesus  was  to  be 
conceived,  it  was  something  infinitely  richer,  more  vital 
and  penetrative,  than  the  Chalcedonian  formulation  took 
account  of.  The  fundamental  error,  I  take  it,  in  much 
of  this  controversy  on  both  sides  was  the  idea  that  by  the 
union  of  the  divine  with  the  human — the  presence 
and  energising  of  the  divine  in  the  human — the  human 

1  The  non-Hellenic  character  of  the  creed  is  dwelt  on  by  Harnack  (iv. 
222-3). 


O 


194 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


is  annulled ,  or  robbed  in  some  degree  of  its  integrity 
or  perfection  ; 1  the  truth  being,  as  a  deeper  psychology 
shows,  that  it  is  only  as  the  human  takes  up  the  divine 
into  itself,  and  assimilates  it,  that  it  realises  the  true  and 
complete  ideal  of  humanity.  The  Eutychian  (or  Mono- 
physite)  could  only  regard  this  union  of  human  nature 
with  the  divine  as  a  mingling,  a  mixture,  a  fusion,  else  as 
the  absorption  of  the  human  in  the  divine, — and  against 
this  the  Council  of  Chalcedon  rightly  protested.  But 
the  Monophysite,  on  the  other  hand,  felt  that  the  Chalce- 
donian  formula  held  the  natures  too  coldly,  too  abstractly 
apart,  too  jealously  shut  out  all  intercommunion  between 
them.  Hence  the  long  fight  which  followed.  It  is  the 
perception  of  this  element  of  truth  in  the  Monophysite 
side  which  gives  to  these  further  conflicts,  so  dreary  in 
their  outward  details,  a  measure  of  interest  and  profit. 

IV.  The  Monophysite ,  or  “  one  nature  ”  controversy 
(/Aovrj  or  fi'ia  (pvcrts),  to  which  we  now  turn,  is  simply  in 
principle  a  continuation  of  the  Eutychian.  The  name 
denotes  the  new  forms  which  that  controversy  assumed 
after  the  decisions  of  the  Council  of  Chalcedon.  The 
Chalcedonian  Creed,  so  far  from  meeting  with  uni¬ 
versal  acceptance,  proved,  partly  for  the  reason  above 
mentioned,  the  signal  for  a  general  revolt  of  the 
adherents  of  the  “  one  nature  ”  doctrine,  who  defended 
their  views  with  much  earnestness  and  no  incon¬ 
siderable  ability.  The  doctrine  promulgated  at  Chal¬ 
cedon  they  regarded  as  rank  Nestorianism,  and  would 
have  none  of  it.  The  chief  centres  of  the  Monophysite 
party  were  Egypt,  Palestine,  and  parts  of  Syria,  and 
its  main  strength  was  among  the  monks.  In  all  the 
regions  named,  immediately  after  the  Council,  tumults 
broke  out,  and  opposition  bishops  were  set  up  in 

1  See  above,  p.  176. 


MONOPHYSITE  PARTIES 


195 

Alexandria,  Jerusalem,  and  Antioch.  As  time  went 
on  the  controversy  only  grew  keener,  sects  were  multi¬ 
plied,  and  the  relations  of  parties  underwent  the  most 
curious  changes.  It  is  sometimes  sought  to  dis¬ 
tinguish  the  earlier  or  Eutychian  form  of  Mono- 
physitism  from  its  later  forms  by  saying  that  Eutyches 
taught  an  absorption  of  the  human  nature  in  the  divine 
— its  deification — while  later  teachers  held  rather  a 
fusion  of  the  divine  and  human  in  Christ — the  produc¬ 
tion  of  a  composite  nature.  This  distinction,  however, 
cannot  be  carried  through.  Certainly  Eutyches  did  teach 
the  assimilation  or  transformation  of  human  nature — its 
merging  in  the  divine — but  so  did  many  later  Monophy- 
sites.  On  the  other  hand,  the  doctrine  of  a  cru^yvcris 
or  repaves  of  the  divine  and  human,  i.e.,  of  a  fusion  or 
mixture,  is  already  condemned  by  the  Council  of  Chal- 
cedon.1  The  truth  is,  as  hinted  above,  Monophysitism 
had  its  own  rationale ,  its  own  element  of  truth  to 
protect ;  hence  its  ability  to  stand  out  so  long  against 
the  rival  view,  and  the  fact  that  what  Dorner  calls  its 
long  “  dialogue  ” 2  with  the  Church  was  not  unfruit¬ 
ful  of  good.  One  of  the  strangest  results  of  the  de¬ 
velopment  was  that,  in  the  course  of  the  controversy, 
the  parties,  like  Hamlet  and  Laertes  in  the  play,  came 
to  change  weapons  ;  so  that  we  have  Monophysites 
teaching  so  strongly  the  ignorance  of  Christ’s  human 
nature  (Agnoetes),  that  they  look  like  the  advocates  of 
an  exaggerated  Chalcedonianism  ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  have  advocates  of  the  Chalcedonian  view  so 
exalting  the  human  nature  —  attributing  to  it,  e.g., 
omniscience — that  they  are  Monophysites  in  all  but 

1  Those  carrying  out  the  idea  of  a  conversion  or  transformation  found 
an  able  representative  in  Julian  of  Halicarnassus  ;  the  view  of  a  composite 
nature  had  advocates  in  Philoxenus  and  in  Severus  of  Antioch  (about 
500  a.d.).  Cf.  Dorner,  iii.  122  ff. 

2  iii.  125. 

mi  ■ 


196 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  name.  The  hair-splitting  that  went  on  in  all  the 
parties  was  extraordinary,  as  if,  says  Dorner  again, 
“  it  had  been  ordained  that  Christendom  should  make 
experiments  in  all  possible  directions  ”  ; 1  and  the 
names  alone  of  the  sects  that  resulted  (Aphthartodoce- 
tists,  Phthartolatrists,  Actistetes,  etc.)  are  enough  to 
give  one  a  cold  shiver. 


A  situation  already  so  difficult  was  made  much 
worse  by  the  injudicious  interference  of  the  emperors 
in  their  efforts  to  enforce  unity.  First  we  have  the 
attempt  made  (482  A.D.)  by  the  Emperor  Zeno,  a  coarse, 
debauched  man,  in  conjunction  with  the  patriarch 
Acacius,  to  devise  a  formula  of  union — that  known  as 
the  Henoticon — which  might  conciliate  the  Monophy- 
sites,  or  the  more  moderate  section  of  them,  but  which 
in  reality  pleased  neither  party,  and  only  aggravated 
the  evils  it  sought  to  cure.  Later  on  came  the  attempt 
of  the  Emperor  Justinian  (544  A.D.)  to  bring  about  a 
reunion  of  the  Monophysite  parties  with  the  Church 
through  his  famous  edict  of  “  The  Three  Chapters,”  in 
which  he  condemns  (1)  the  person  and  writings  of 
Theodore  ;  (2)  the  writings  of  Theodoret  against  Cyril  ; 
and  (3)  a  letter  of  Ibas  of  Edessa,  likewise  reflecting 
upon  Cyril.2  It  need  not  be  said  that,  though  enforced 
by  deposition,  these  articles,  instead  of  settling  the  con¬ 
troversy,  only  plunged  the  Church  into  worse  confusion 
than  ever.  I  may  simply  note  two  other  influences 
which  entered  the  history  of  Monophysitism  in  this 
period,  destined  considerably  to  affect  it,  though  in 

1  iii.  1 21. 

2  It  sought  to  steer  a  middle  course,  on  the  one  hand  condemning 
Eutychianism  and  Nestorianism  ;  on  the  other,  setting  aside  the  creed  of 
Chalcedon,  and  adhering  to  Cyril’s  evwcns  (pvaLKrj.  It  further  split  up  the 
Monophysites  in  Alexandria,  and  led  to  a  rupture  between  Rome  and 
Constantinople,  which  lasted  for  thirty-five  years  (484-519  A. D.). 


THE  FIFTH  COUNCIL 


197 


opposite  directions — one,  a  powerful  reinforcement  of 
the  mystical  tendency  derived  from  the  writings  of  the 
pseudo-Dionysius  the  Areopagite  (fifth  century)  ;  the 
other,  the  introduction  into  the  controversy  of  the 
categories  and  distinctions  of  the  Aristotelian  philosophy 
by  a  learned  Monophysite  of  the  beginning  of  the  sixth 
century,  John  Philoponus,1  who  found  the  technology  of 
nature,  essence,  genus,  species,  etc.,  eminently  suitable 
for  the  kind  of  disputation  in  which  he  was  engaged. 

Thus  for  a  whole  century  the  controversy  went  on 
till,  finally,  in  553  A.D.  a  new  Council  was  summoned 
by  Justinian — the  so-called  fifth  ecumenical — at  Con¬ 
stantinople,  to  judge  upon  it.  This  fifth  Council  was 
attended  only  by  165  bishops,  all  but  five  of  them 
Eastern,  and  its  decrees  were  so  far  a  victory  for  the 
Monophysites  that  they  endorsed  the  anathemas  of 
“  The  Three  Chapters,”  and  so  secured  at  length  the 
end  dear  to  Cyril’s  heart  of  the  condemnation  of  the 
person  and  writings  of  Theodore,  and,  in  part,  the 
condemnation  of  Theodoret.  But  it  saved  the  authority 
of  the  Council  of  Chalcedon  by  anathematising  those 
who  declared  that  it  countenanced  the  errors  con¬ 
demned.  The  persons  of  Theodoret  and  Ibas  were 
spared  on  the  ground  that  they  had  recalled  their 
erroneous  doctrine,  and  had  been  received  by  the 
Council  of  Chalcedon.  The  Council  failed,  however, 
in  reconciling  the  Monophysites  ;  rather  it  sealed  their 
final  separation  from  the  Church  of  the  Empire.2 

V.  Last  of  all  in  this  unlovely  series  came,  a  full 

1  On  Philoponus,  see  Neander,  iv.  274.  He  was  accused  of  Tritheism. 
A  predecessor  was  Leontius.  Cf.  Iiarnack,  iv.  232. 

2  Most  had  already  broken  off,  forming  churches,  of  which  repre¬ 
sentatives  still  remain  in  important  communities  in  the  East  (Copts  and 
Abyssinians,  Armenians,  the  Jacobites  in  Syria,  Mesopotamia,  etc.). 


198 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


century  after  the  fifth  council,  the  Monothelite  contro¬ 
versy,  on  the  doctrine  of  the  will  in  Christ.  This 
speculation  did  not  spring  up  outside,  but  had  its 
origin  in  an  attempt  of  the  Emperor  Heraclius  to  win 
back  the  Monophysites  to  the  Church,  and  in  Alex¬ 
andria  did  succeed  in  winning  back  some  of  them.1  The 
germ  of  the  new  development  is  perhaps  to  be  sought 
in  a  passage  in  the  Areopagite,  in  which  he  speaks  of 
a  deavSpc/cr)  evepyeia — a  divine-human  energy — in  Christ. 
It  is  already  evident  that  the  doctrine  of  the  natures 
could  not  remain  where  the  decisions  of  the  Council  of 
Chalcedon  had  left  it.  To  say  that  there  is  unity  of 
Person  and  duality  of  natures  leaves  a  number  of  vital 
questions  unresolved.  For,  apart  from  the  how  of  this 
union,  it  is  still  left  undetermined  how  much  is  included 
in  the  Person,  and  how  much  in  the  nature.  Does 
will,  eg.,  belong  to  the  Person  or  the  nature  ?  How, 
on  the  one  hand,  can  there  be  a  willing  agent  without 
personality  ?  If  we  say  there  are  two  wills  in  Christ, 
does  not  this  imply  that  there  are  two  personal  centres 
or  egos ,  and  are  we  not  thereby  driven  back  upon  a 
form  of  Nestorianism  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  say 
there  is  but  one  will  in  Christ,  viz.,  the  divine,  does  not 
this  seem  to  rob  Christ  of  true  human  volition,  and 
detract  from  the  integrity  of  His  humanity  ?  The 
Monothelite  started  from  the  unity  of  the  Person,  and 
his  doctrine,  just  as  in  the  Monophysite  controversy, 
could  take  two  forms.  Either  the  human  will  might 
be  viewed  as  altogether  merged  in  the  divine,  so  that 
the  latter  alone  acts  ;  or  the  will  might  be  regarded  as 
composite ,  i.e.,  as  resulting  from  a  fusion  of  the  human 
and  the  divine.  In  either  case  the  logical  carrying 

1  The  Emperor,  who  had  recovered  the  provinces  of  the  East  from  the 
Persians,  was  naturally  anxious  to  conciliate  the  Monophysites  in  Syria 
and  Armenia. 


THE  MONOTHELITE  DOCTRINE 


199 


out  of  the  doctrine  view  seemed  to  involve  the  denial 
of  truly  human  volition  to  Christ.  Thus,  when  Jesus 
says,  “  Not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt,”  1  or,  “  I  seek 
not  mine  own  will,” 2  etc.,  —  language  in  which  He 
appears  to  claim  a  will  of  His  own, — his  words  were 
explained  as  a  mere  condescension  for  the  purposes  of 
instruction.  The  Dyothelites,  on  the  other  hand, 
starting  from  the  duality  of  the  natures,  and  attributing 
a  will  to  each,  seemed  to  create  two  will  centres  in  the 
one  consciousness,  and  apparently  destroyed  the  unity 
of  the  personal  life.  The  controversy,  it  will  be  seen, 
involved  a  real  point  of  difficulty,  and  was  not,  as 
we  might  be  tempted  to  think  it,  a  simple  piece  of 
logomachy. 

In  the  first  form  which  the  controversy  assumed, 
however,  the  dispute  was  not  so  much  about  one  will , 
as,  in  accordance  with  the  phrase  above  quoted  from 
the  Areopagite,  about  one  energy  in  the  Person  of 
Christ.3  If  we  take  the  analogy  of  two  streams,  issuing 
from  separate  fountain-heads,  but  mingling  their  waters 
in  their  afterflow,  we  may  see  that  there  is  conceivable 
a  union  or  blending  of  the  energies  or  operations  of 
Christ’s  divine  and  human  Person,  though  these 
proceed  from  two  sources  or  wills.  It  was  this  idea  of 
the  union  of  energies  which  the  Emperor  Heraclius, 
supported  by  the  patriarchs  of  Constantinople  and 
Alexandria,  now  took  up,  and  through  it  endeavoured  to 
gain  over  the  Monophysites  (630  A.D.).  But  in  the 
logic  of  the  case,  the  controversy  soon  moved  back  on 
the  question  of  the  one  will .  Sergius  of  Constantinople 
sought  to  secure  the  favour  of  Honorius,  the  bishop  of 
Rome,  for  this  doctrine  ;  and  here  we  come  to  another  of 

1  Matt,  xxvii.  39.  2  John  v.  30. 

3  deauSpucy  tvipyeux. 


200 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  curious  lights  cast  by  the  history  of  the  period  on 
the  doctrine  of  Papal  Infallibility.  Honorius  gave  his 
judgment  quite  unequivocally  for  the  assertion  of  one 
sole  will  in  Christ.  “  We  confess,”  he  says  expressly, 
“one  will  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.”1  This  second 
stage  of  the  controversy  is  marked  by  the  publication 
of  an  imperial  edict — that  known  as  the  Ecthesis ,  or 
Exposition  of  the  Faith  (638  A.D.),  which  sets  aside 
the  term  “  energy  ”  (ivep^eta)  as  liable  to  mislead,  and 
advances  explicitly  to  the  affirmation  of  one  “  will  ” 
(de\7)p,a)  in  Christ.  This,  it  is  evident,  was  simply 
carrying  back  Monophysitism  into  the  region  of  the 
will,  while  granting  in  words  the  distinctness  of  the 
natures,  and  it  necessarily  revived  in  an  acuter  form  all 
the  old  controversies.  The  decree  was  endorsed,  of 
course,  in  Constantinople,  but  was  stoutly  resisted  and 
condemned  in  North  Africa  and  in  Italy,  where  the 
successors  of  Honorius  refused  it  their  assent.  Thus 
the  matter  stood  till  648  A.D.,  when  a  new  Emperor, 
Constans  II.,  substituted  for  the  Ecthesis  another  edict 
called  the  Type,  which  went  on  the  futile  idea  of 
forbidding  discussion  altogether,  ordaining  that  neither 
one  will  nor  two  wills  should  be  taught.  Severe 
punishments  were  decreed  against  all  who  should 
disobey.  Pope  Martin  resisted,  and  had  Monothelitism 
condemned  at  Rome  in  649  A.D.  For  this  offence  he 
was  taken,  a  few  years  after,  in  chains  to  Constantinople, 
and  finally  was  banished  to  the  Crimea,  where  he  died 
literally  of  hunger.  Another  leading  opponent,  the 
aged  Maximus  (82  years  old)  had  his  tongue  cut 
out,  and  his  right  hand  cut  off  (622  A.D.),  and  died 
shortly  after  from  the  effects  of  this  cruelty. 

1  Honorius  was  condemned  and  excommunicated  for  this  heresy  by  the 
sixth  ecumenical  Council,  and  the  excommunication  was  confirmed  by  the 
seventh  and  eighth  Councils.  Every  Pope  till  the  eleventh  century  was 
required  to  pronounce  an  anathema  on  Honorius. 


THE  SIXTH  COUNCIL 


201 


A  tyranny  so  barbarous  was  effectual  for  a  time  in 
crushing  out  protest ;  but  only  for  a  time.  Under  a 
later  Pope,  Adeodatus  (677  A.D.),  the  controversy  was 
renewed,  and  communion  broken  off  with  Constantinople. 
An  emperor  of  a  different  stamp  was  now  on  the 
throne — Constantine  Prognatus — whose  sincere  desire 
for  peace  led  him  (678  A.D.)  to  make  proposals  for  a 
new  Council.  This,  with  the  concurrence  of  Agatho, 
the  Roman  bishop,  was  finally  convened  at  Constanti¬ 
nople  in  680  A.D.,  and  ranks  as  the  sixth  ecumenical, 
or  first  Trullan  (from  the  chamber  in  the  palace  in 
which  the  meetings  were  held).  The  attendance  was 
not  large — never  more  than  200 — but  the  proceedings 
were  marked  by  more  decorum  and  impartiality  than 
those  of  previous  councils  in  these  controversies.  The 
doctrinal  outcome  was  a  brief  formula,  based  on  a  letter 
sent  by  Agatho  to  the  Emperor,  in  which  the  essential 
clause  is  the  affirmation  of  “  two  natural  wills,  and  two 
natural  operations  (energies)  in  Christ,  without  division, 
change,  separation,  or  confusion,”  though  it  is  added 
that  the  human  will  is  invariably  subject  to  the  divine. 
The  formula  was  agreed  to  with  only  one  or  two 
dissentients.  It  will  be  seen  that  it  does  little  more 
than  take  over  the  Chalcedonian  determinations  about 
the  nature,  and  apply  them  specifically  to  the  will  ; 
and  it  is  liable,  of  course,  to  the  same  criticism,  that, 
while  it  wards  off  the  Monothelite  errors,  it  affords  no 
help  to  a  positive  solution  of  the  problem.  Perhaps,  as 
before,  it  is  an  advantage  that  it  does  not  complicate  its 
statement  with  any  elements  that  can  be  called  specula¬ 
tive.  But  the  fact  remains  that  the  formula  with  which  it 
leaves  us — two  wills  and  two  operations  subsisting  side 
by  side — cannot  be  regarded  as  either  perfect  or  final. 


Glancing  at  the  discussion  as  a  whole,  I  may 


202 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


observe,  first,  that  there  is  an  ambiguity  in  the  term 
“  will  ”  which  somewhat  complicates  the  understanding 
of  the  question.  When  ordinarily  we  speak  of  will,  we 
mean  by  it  strictly  the  faculty  of  volition — of  self- 
determination  or  choice.  But  there  is  a  larger  use  of 
the  word  not  uncommon  in  the  usage  of  philosophy  and 
theology,  in  which  it  includes  the  whole  of  what  are 
sometimes  termed  “  the  active  powers,”  i.e.,  the  instincts, 
appetites,  desires,  affections,  with  their  corresponding 
aversions.1  All  this  in  the  old  controversy  was  covered 
by  the  term  “  will  ”  ;  and  the  question  of  whether  Christ 
had  a  natural  will  was  extended  to  include  the  posses¬ 
sion  by  Him  of  all  these  natural  impulses,  desires, 
aversions,  etc.  It  covered,  eg.,  such  a  question  as 
whether  Christ  was  capable  of  fear,  or  of  the  natural 
shrinking  from  suffering  and  death.  It  will  be  seen 
from  this  how  serious  was  the  peril  of  denying,  as  the 
Monothelites  did,  that  Christ  had  a  distinct  human  will, 
and  how  the  assertion  of  the  one  will  tended  to  give 
Christ’s  humanity  an  entirely  docetic  character.2 
Against  such  a  view  the  Dyothelites  rightly  protested. 
Still  this,  as  manifestly,  does  not  clear  away  the 
difficulty  of  assuming  what  we  may  call  two  will- 
systems  in  the  one  personal  consciousness,  nor  explain 
how,  if  the  power  of  self-determining  choice  is  included 
under  will — is,  indeed,  of  the  core  and  essence  of  it — 
there  could  be  two  self-determining  centres  in  the  one 
personal  life. 

This  brings  me  back  to  my  former  position  that 
the  main  source  of  the  difficulty  here  arises,  just  as  in 

1  Thus,  e.g.,  Dr.  Reid  divides  the  powers  of  the  mind  into  under¬ 
standing  and  will,  and  says — “  Under  the  term  will  we  comprehend  our 
active  powers,  and  all  that  lead  to  action,  or  influence  the  mind  to  act — 
such  as  appetites,  passions,  affections  ” — Intellect.  Powers ,  I.  ch.  vii. 

2  Cf.  Neander  on  Maximus,  v.  252  (Bohn). 


HUMAN  AND  DIVINE  WILLS 


203 


the  earlier  discussion  on  the  natures,  from  the  mistaken 
assumptions  with  which  both  parties  in  the  controversy 
started.  The  human  and  divine  are  first  arbitrarily 
separated,  and  an  opposition  is  set  up  between  them 
which  makes  true  union  afterwards  impossible.  It  is 
assumed  that  a  human  will  united  with  the  divine — 
energised  by  it — in  which  God  Himself  truly  wills  and 
acts,  becomes  by  that  fact  less  a  truly  human  will, 
instead  of  being,  as  is  really  the  case,  heightened  and 
perfected  by  this  participation  in  the  divine.  It  is 
assumed  that  if  the  Son  of  God  really  took  our  nature 
upon  Him,  and  entered  into  all  the  conditions  of  a  true 
human  life, — growth,  development,  volition,  included, — 
His  willing,  because  human,  could  not  be  also  divine  ; 
there  must,  it  is  supposed,  be  alongside  of  it  in  the 
consciousness  of  Christ  aiiother  will,  which  has  all  the 
attributes  of  deity — omnipotence,  omniscience,  and  the 
rest.  Thus  far  there  is  an  element  of  truth  in  the 
protest  of  Monothelitism.  Christ’s  will,  even  as  man, 
is  a  divine-human  will — the  will  of  the  One  Personal 
Logos  who  has  appropriated  humanity  with  all  its  laws 
and  conditions,  natural  desires  and  aversions  not 
excepted,  and  so  is  as  truly  human  as  it  is  divine — 
theanthropic . 

We  may  gain  a  point  of  view  for  the  better  under¬ 
standing  of  this  subject  if  we  recall  that  there  is  a 
sense  in  which  there  are  two  wills  in  every  man — what 
we  sometimes  speak  of  as  the  higher  and  the  lower 
will  :  a  will  which  seeks  to  maintain  its  union  with 
that  law  of  reason  and  duty  which  we  confess  to  be 
God’s  presence  within  us,1  and  a  natural  will  which 
strives  against  the  former,  and  even  in  the  Sinless  One 
experienced  the  shrinkings  from  pain  and  death  which 

1  Cf.  Paul’s  experience  in  Rom.  vii. 


204 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


are  inseparable  from  our  human  state.  How  erroneous 
our  view  of  human  nature  would  be,  were  we  to  separate 
these  two  wills,  or  modes  of  will,  putting  one  on  the 
side  of  a  divine  nature,  and  the  other  on  the  side  of  a 
human  nature,  as  if  both  did  not  belong  to  the  truth 
and  unity  of  our  humanity  !  But  this  is  in  effect  what 
the  Monothelites  did  in  the  case  of  Christ.  It  is 
interesting  to  observe,  however,  that  as  the  controversy 
went  on,  there  came  to  be  glimpses  of  the  higher 
reconciling  view  which  lays  stress  on  the  constitution 
of  the  soul  as  involving  a  God-like  element — a  sub¬ 
sistence  from  the  first  in  and  through  the  Logos — 
in  which  lies  the  potency  of  that  perfect  union  of  the 
human  will  with  the  divine  (yet  in  harmony  with  the 
laws  of  natural  sensibility)  which  is  perfectly  realised 
in  Christ.1 

There  is,  of  course,  a  higher  sense  in  which  we  may 
and  must  speak  of  two  wills  in  Christ — a  will  of  the 
divine  and  a  will  of  the  human  nature — though  it  is 
not  properly  the  sense  of  this  controversy,  and  is  only 
brought  into  it  with  danger  of  confusion.  There  is 
the  transcendent  side  of  the  Person  of  Christ — His 
Logos-side,  or  subsistence  in  “  the  form  of  God  ”  2  as 
member  of  the  Sacred  Trinity  —  His  pre-existent, 
eternal  side,  in  which  He  wills  and  acts  in  an  un¬ 
changeably  divine  manner  under  quite  different  con¬ 
ditions  from  those  in  which  He  wills  and  acts  as  man. 
There  is,  again,  the  human  or  incarnate  side  of  Christ’s 
personality,  in  which  He  wills  under  the  conditions  and 
within  the  limitations  of  humanity.  These  are  not 
two  wills  in  the  one  human  consciousness  ;  but  rather 

1  These  views  are  chiefly  found  in  Maximus  and  his  disciple  Anastasius. 
Cf.  Dorner,  iii.  188  ff. 

2  Phil.  ii.  6. 


THE  “  IMPERSONALITY »  DOCTRINE 


205 


two  spheres  or  modes  of  existence  of  the  one  divine  Son, 
which  faith  must  acknowledge,  though  it  m^iy  be  unable 
perfectly  to  comprehend  their  relationship.1  Even  here, 
however,  we  shall  err  if  we  assume  that  these  two 
spheres  or  sides  of  existence  were  held  during  Christ’s 
earthly  life  rigorously  apart  —  that  there  were  not 
frequent  inburstings,  if  I  may  so  say,  of  the  powers 
of  the  higher  life  into  the  lower.  The  Gospel 
narratives,  with  their  examples  of  supernatural  know¬ 
ledge  and  consciousness  on  the  part  of  Christ — of 
such  events  as  the  transfiguration,  the  walking  on  the 
sea,  the  Resurrection  —  are  proofs  to  the  contrary. 
This  interaction  of  higher  and  lower  furnishes  the  key 
to  many  of  the  facts  which  formed  the  subjects  of 
dispute  in  these  controversies. 

Supplementary 

The  views  given  in  the  foregoing  lecture  may  be 
supplemented  by  reference  to  one  or  two  later  Christo- 
logical  developments. 

1 .  There  is  the  question  of  the  Impersonality  of 
Christ’s  human  nature.  If  the  Nestorian  view  is  re¬ 
jected,  it  seems  to  follow  that  the  human  nature  of 
Christ  never  subsisted  in  a  personality  of  its  own  :  that 
it  was  assumed  by,  and  subsisted  only  in,  the  Person 
of  the  divine  Logos  or  Son.  Still  this  term  “  imper¬ 
sonality  ”  ( avviroo-Taaia )  is  unfortunate,  as  suggesting 
a  possible  independent  impersonal  existence  of  the 

1  It  will  be  seen  that  I  cannot  see  my  way  to  accept  those  theories  of 
Kenosis  which  assume  a  “  depotentiation  ”  of  the  Logos  to  the  extent  of 
His  parting  with  all  Plis  divine  attributes,  and  even  with  His  divine  con¬ 
sciousness.  This  view  appears  to  me  to  demand  what  is  inconceivable, 
that  God  should  cease  to  be  God  ;  that  the  Son  should  resign  His  functions 
as  Creator  and  upholder  of  the  world,  and  be  temporarily  blotted  out  of 
the  life  of  the  Trinity.  Cf.  Lecture  X. 


206 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


humanity  of  Christ,  which  is  not  in  the  least 
intended.  The  term  “  en-personality  ”  ( evviroo-TacrLa ) 
is  less  objectionable,  as  bringing  out  the  idea  of  sub¬ 
sistence  “  in  ”  in  the  Person  of  the  Logos.  The 
doctrine  of  e7ihypostasia  is  found  in  Leontius  of 
Byzantium  (483-543  A.D.),  but  is  most  fully  de¬ 
veloped  by  John  of  Damascus  (about  750  A.D.).1 
Another  favourite  doctrine  of  John’s  is  that  of  the 
“  circumcession  ”  (rrepigw preens),  or  interpenetration  of 
the  natures,2  which  is  really  an  attempt  to  do  justice 
to  the  element  of  truth  in  Monophysitism,  though  in 
John’s  hands  it  passes  legitimate  bounds,  and  tends 
to  nullify  the  human. 

2.  The  Adoptionist  Controversy  (782-799  A.D.). 

This  controversy  was  of  Spanish  origin,  and  prob¬ 
ably  arose  from  a  desire  to  make  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  more  acceptable  to  the  Mohammedans. 
Its  author  was  one  Felix  of  Urgellis.  The  point  in 
it  is  that  Christ  was  held  to  be  properly  Son  of  God 
in  respect  of  His  divine  nature  ;  as  respects  His 
humanity,  He  was  Son  of  God  only  by  adoption . 
This  view  was  rejected  by  his  opponents  as  Nestorian, 
and  was  condemned  at  the  Synod  of  Frankfort  in 
794  A.D. — the  same  which  condemned  image-worship. 
Alcuin,  the  great  scholar  of  the  court  of  Charlemagne, 
had  before  this  (792  A.D.)  entered  the  lists  with  P'elix 
at  a  Synod  in  Aachen,  and  in  a  disputation  of  six  days, 
had  succeeded  in  convincing  him  of  his  error.  The 
heresy  died  out  in  Spain  in  the  middle  of  the  next 
century. 

1  Cf.  Harnack,  iv.  232,  264  (E.T.);  Dorner,  iii.  210  ff.  (E.T.). 

2  Cf.  Dorner,  iv.  p.  216. 


VII 


The  Doctrine  of  Atonement — Anselm  and  Abelard 
to  Reformation  (Eleventh  to  Sixteenth 

Centuries) 


“As  the  Lord  wills  not  to  destroy  in  us  that  which  is  His  own,  He  still 
finds  something  in  us  which  in  kindness  He  can  love.  For  though  it  is  by 
our  own  fault  that  we  are  sinners,  we  are  still  His  creatures  ;  though  we 
have  brought  death  upon  ourselves,  He  had  created  us  for  life.  Thus,  mere 
gratuitous  love  prompts  Him  to  receive  us  into  favour.  .  .  .  Accordingly 
God  the  Father,  by  His  love,  prevents  and  anticipates  our  reconciliation  in 
Christ.  Nay,  it  is  because  He  first  loves  us  that  He  afterwards  reconciles  us 
to  Himself.” — Calvin. 

“That  the  work  of  Christ  consisted  in  what  He  achieved,  that  it 
culminates  in  His  sacrificial  death,  that  it  signifies  the  overcoming  and 
effacing  of  the  guilt  of  sin,  that  salvation  consists  consequently  in  the  forgive¬ 
ness,  the  justification  and  adoption  of  man,  are  thoughts  which  in  no  church 
teacher  are  wholly  absent.  In  some  they  stand  out  boldly.  In  the  case  of 
most  they  find  their  way  into  the  exposition  of  the  dogma  of  redemption.” — 
Harnack. 

“It  is  certainly  most  remarkable,  and  most  honourable  to  the  Christian 
sagacity  of  this  ancient  Father  of  the  Church  (Anselm),  that  he  was  able,  as  a 
pioneer  of  doctrine  concerning  this  profoundly  difficult  subject,  to  make  out 
an  account  of  it  which  shocks  no  moral  sentiment,  and  violates  no'  principle 
of  natural  reason,  as  almost  all  the  doctors  and  dogmatising  Fathers  have 
been  doing  ever  since.”  — Bushnell. 

“  God  can  only  forgive  sin  by  forgiving  nothing  to  Himself,  by  Himself 
bearing  what  He  forgives,  and  Himself  performing  what  he  commands,  as 
Jesus  did  in  His  form  of  servant.” — Sartorius. 


LECTURE  VII 

The  Doctrine  of  Atonement — Anselm  and  Abelard  to 
Reformation  (Eleventh  to  Sixteenth  Centuries). 

We  come  in  this  lecture  to  Soteriology  in  its  objective 
aspect ;  in  plainer  terms,  to  the  connection  of  man’s 
salvation  with  Christ’s  doing  and  suffering,  and  specially 
with  His  death,  regarded  as  an  Atonement  for  sin. 
Christianity  being  above  all  things  a  religion  of 
redemption,  it  might  be  supposed  that  the  doctrine 
of  atonement  would  have  been  one  of  the  first  to 
which  the  mind  of  the  Church  would  be  theologically 
applied.  The  fact,  however,  was  not  so ;  and,  in 
accordance  with  the  law  of  development  already  stated, 
could  not  well  have  been.  The  doctrine  of  atone¬ 
ment  could  not  be  profitably  investigated  till  attention 
had  been  given  to  those  doctrines  which  form  its  pre¬ 
suppositions — the  doctrines  of  God,  of  human  nature, 
of  sin,  of  the  Person  of  the  Redeemer.  By  the  time 
the  controversies  on  these  subjects  had  run  their  course 
the  Church  was  well  advanced  into  the  Middle  Ages. 
Europe  had  been  merged  in  barbarism,  and  in  the 
confusions  that  ensued  it  seemed  as  if  an  arrest 
were  put  on  further  intellectual  progress.  But  in  the 
schools  of  the  age  of  Charlemagne  the  light  of  a  new 
learning  was  kindling ;  and  the  corruptions  of  the 
Church  could  not  stifle  the  intellectual  impulse  which 


p 


210 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


a  century  or  two  later  manifested  itself  in  the  vigorous 
life  of  the  universities. 

The  soteriological  epoch  in  the  history  of  dogma 
is  properly  reached  in  the  end  of  the  eleventh  century 
with  Anselm  of  Canterbury,1  first  of  the  greater 
schoolmen,  as  we  may  name  him.  This  accords  with 
the  place  the  doctrine  holds  in  the  logical  scheme 
between  Christology  and  the  doctrine  of  the  Application 
of  Redemption,  a  new  proof  of  the  soundness  of  my 
general  thesis.  A  glance  at  any  Church  history,  or 
history  of  doctrine,  will  show  that  I  state  the  matter 
correctly.  Neander,  eg.,  begins  his  section  on  the 
doctrine  of  atonement  in  the  Anselmic  period  by 
remarking  that  “  the  arriving  at  a  distinct  conception 
of  the  way  in  which  the  salvation  of  mankind  was 
wrought  out  by  Christ  was  a  matter  on  which  little 
attention  had  thus  far  been  bestowed  in  comparison 
with  the  investigations  on  the  other  subjects  belonging 
to  the  system  of  faith,”  and  adds  that  “  the  twelfth 
century  constitutes  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  this 
doctrine.” 2  Ritschl  similarly  commences  his  history 
of  the  doctrine  of  atonement  with  Anselm.3  We  may 
affirm,  therefore,  that  from  Anselm  to  the  Reformation 
is  the  classical  period  for  the  formation  of  this  doctrine 
as  it  appears  in  our  creeds,  and  the  fundamental 
determinations  then  arrived  at,  subsequent  thought,  I 
believe,  has  failed  to  unsettle. 

1  Anselm  died  in  1109.  His  Cur  Deus  Homo  was  finished  in 
1098. 

2  viii.  pp.  200,  201  (Bohn).  Before  this  the  subject  is  hardly  touched 
on  in  his  pages. 

3  Iiarnack  in  a  left-handed  way  makes  the  same  acknowledgment. 
The  early  Church,  he  says,  had  treated  this  doctrine  as  “  a  sacred  mystery. 
...  It  was  reserved  for  the  Middle  Ages  and  our  modern  time  to  cast 
off  all  modesty  and  reverence  here  ”  (iii.  p.  306). 


ATONEMENT  IN  THE  EARLY  CHURCH 


21  I 


In  recognising  this,  we  must  not,  with  some,  fall 
into  the  opposite  error  of  supposing  that  up  to  this 
time  the  Church  had  no  doctrine  of  atonement,  or  at 
best  only  some  mythical  speculations  on  a  ransom 
paid  by  Christ  to  Satan  for  man’s  deliverance.  On  no 
subject  is  it  more  necessary  to  distinguish  between 
doctrine  as  held  in  the  immediacy  of  faith,  and  the 
examination  and  discussion  which  result  in  giving  that 
doctrine  scientific  shape.  Anselm  in  his  Cur  Dens 
Homo  does  not  profess  to  be  stating  new  doctrine,  but 
only  to  be  giving,  or  aiming  at  giving,  rational  ground 
to  a  doctrine  which  the  whole  Church  believed,  but  in 
regard  to  which,  as  he  tells  us,  there  had  come  to  be 
much  cavilling  and  questioning.  That,  even  as  regards 
theological  elaboration,  Anselm  and  his  successors 
found  much  material  prepared  to  their  hand  in  the 
statements  of  early  writers,  will  be  evident,  I  think, 
from  the  brief  sketch  of  the  previous  stages  in  the 
development  of  the  doctrine  to  which  I  now  proceed. 

I.  It  would,  indeed,  have  been  strange  if  the  early 
Church  had  shown  no  traces  of  a  doctrine  of  atone¬ 
ment,  seeing  that  the  Epistles  of  the  New  Testament 
are  so  full  of  the  subject.  But  the  Church  never  was 
without  the  rudiments  of  such  a  doctrine.  It  may 
confidently  be  affirmed  that  there  never  was  a  time 
when  the  Church  did  not  know  itself  redeemed  by 
Christ,  and  did  not  attribute  a  propitiatory  efficacy  to 
His  death,  or  regard  it  as  the  ground  of  God’s  gracious 
dealings  with  men  in  forgiveness  and  renewal.  Ex¬ 
ceptions  there  are  ;  but  generally  early  Church  writers 
show  a  lively  sense  of  the  reality  and  manysidedness 
of  Christ’s  work,  and  exalt  His  Cross  as  the  means  by 
which  men  are  saved  from  sin’s  curse  and  Satan’s 
tyranny.  All  this,  I  grant,  is  loosely  conceived  and 


212 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


imperfectly  expressed.  There  is  free  use  of  Scripture 
language  without  much  real  insight  into  its  meaning  ; 
and  there  is  necessarily  the  absence  of  what,  in  later 
times,  we  would  call  a  developed  “  theory  ”  of  the 
atonement.  At  the  same  time  there  are  seldom 
wanting  in  the  greater  writers  profound  thoughts,  and 
glimpses  into  the  heart  of  the  matter  which  surprise 
us  by  their  clearness  ;  and  occasionally  we  meet  with 
tentative  sketches  of  a  theory  which  go  far  to  antici¬ 
pate  future  results.  I  can  glance  only  at  outstanding 
points. 

The  Apostolic  Fathers  are  profuse  in  their  allusions 
to  redemption  through  the  blood  of  Christ,  though  it 
cannot  be  said  that  they  do  much  to  aid  us  in  the 
theological  apprehension  of  this  language.  Thus 
Clement  will  have  us  “  look  steadfastly  to  the  blood 
of  Christ,  and  see  how  precious  His  blood  is  in  the 
sight  of  God  ” — the  blood  “  shed  for  our  salvation.”  1 
Barnabas,  who  abounds  in  this  class  of  references, 
declares,  “  For  this  cause  the  Lord  was  content  to 
suffer  for  our  souls,  although  He  be  the  Lord  of  the 
whole  earth  ” — “  If,  therefore,  the  Son  of  God  .  .  . 
hath  suffered  that  by  His  stripes  we  might  live,  let  us 
believe  that  the  Son  of  God  could  not  have  suffered 
but  for  us  .  .  .  He  was  Himself  one  day  to  offer  up 
His  body  for  our  own  sins.” 2  Ignatius  exhorts  his 
readers  “  by  the  blood  of  Christ,”  and  as  those  who 
“  have  peace  through  the  flesh  and  blood  and  passion 
of  Jesus  Christ” — “who  died  for  us,  that  so  believing 
in  His  death,  ye  might  escape  death  ” — “  who  suffered 
all  these  things  for  us,  that  we  might  be  saved.” 3 
Polycarp  strikes  a  strong  and  clear  evangelic  note, 

1  Ep •  7-  2  Rp •  5>  7,  etc. 

3  Eph.  i  ;  Trail ,  i  ;  Smyrna,  2,  etc. 


I  REN  JR US  ON  REDEMPTION 


213 


“  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  suffered  Himself  to  be 
brought  even  to  the  death  for  our  sins” — “who  His 
own  self  bare  our  sins  in  His  own  body  on  the  tree.”  1 
The  Epistle  to  Diognetus ,  most  strikingly  and  beautifully 
of  all  :  “  He  Himself  took  on  Him  the  burden  of  our 
iniquities,  He  gave  His  own  Son  to  be  a  ransom  for  us, 
the  Holy  One  for  transgressors,  the  Blameless  One  for 
the  wicked,  the  Righteous  One  for  the  unrighteous, 
the  Incorruptible  One  for  the  corruptible,  the  Immortal 
One  for  them  that  are  mortal.  For  what  other  thing 
was  capable  of  covering  our  sin  than  His  righteousness? 
By  what  other  one  was^  it  possible  that  we,  the  wicked 
and  ungodly,  could  be  justified  than  by  the  only  Son 
of  God  ?  O  sweet  exchange  !  O  unsearchable  opera¬ 
tion  !  O  benefits  surpassing  all  expectation  !  that  the 
wickedness  of  many  should  be  hid  in  a  single 
Righteous  One,  and  that  the  righteousness  of  One 
should  justify  many  transgressors.”  2 

The  case  is  not  different  with  the  Old  Catholic 
Fathers ,  who  never  question  the  redeeming  virtue  of 
the  death  of  Christ,  while  their  modes  of  explanation  of 
its  efficacy  vary.3  Irenaeus,  the  earliest  of  these  Fathers, 
furnishes  us,  in  the  doctrine  of  the  recapitulation  formerly 
adverted  to,4  with  a  singularly  interesting  point  of  view 
from  which  to  regard  the  atonement.  Under  this  idea 
he  brings  the  thought  that  Christ  recapitulates  in 
Himself  all  the  stages  of  human  life,  and  all  the 
experiences  of  these  stages,  including  those  which 
belong  to  our  state  as  sinners.5  He  applies  the  idea 

1  Phil.  1,  8. 

2  Ep.  9.  Even  Hermas,  the  least  evangelical  of  this  group,  knows 
that  the  Lord  has  “purged  our  sins”  through  His  toils  and  pains 
{Sim.  v.  6). 

3  Dorner  observes,  “  Nevertheless  one  thing  may  be  said  :  the  idea  of 
substitution  is  common  to  ail  the  Fathers”  ( Syst .  of  Doct.  iv.  p.  8,  E.T.). 

4  Cf.  Lect.  II.  p.  70.  5  Iren.  ii.  22,  4  ;  iii.  7. 


214 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


first  to  a  redeeming  obedience  of  Christ  on  our  behalf — our 
redeeming  Head  passing  through  the  whole  curriculum 
of  our  experience,  and  in  every  part  of  it  rendering  a 
perfect  obedience  to  God.  Thus  He  retracted  the  dis¬ 
obedience  of  the  fall,1  our  salvation  being  achieved,  as 
Dorner  expresses  it,  by  a  recapitulation  of  the  history  of 
mankind  per  oppositum?1  It  is  only  the  other  side  of 
this  thought  when  he  applies  it  next  to  a  complete 
victory  over  Satan  on  our  behalf.  Satan  held  men  in 
bondage  ;  it  was  necessary  that  man’s  Redeemer  should 
enter  into  conflict  with  the  adversary,  and  under  the 
full  stress  of  his  temptations,  should  carry  off  a  glorious 
victory.3  But  this  Father  applies  his  idea  also  in  certain 
passages  to  a  substitutionary  satisfaction  to  justice.  There 
is  a  passage  in  which  Baur  thinks  he  sees  the  germ  of 
the  theory  of  a  ransom  paid  to  Satan  ;4  but  I  do  not 
think  it  can  fairly  bear  that  interpretation.  It  can  the 
less  do  so  that  Irenaeus  in  the  context  quite  explicitly 
speaks  of  Satan’s  dominion  over  man  as  one  unjustly 
obtained.  His  idea  seems  rather  to  be  that  there  is  a 
righteousness  in  the  ordinance  of  God  by  which  man, 
through  his  apostacy,  has  become  subject  to  Satan,  to 
corruption,  and  to  death  ;  and  that  this  righteous  con¬ 
dition  of  things  requires  that  the  Redeemer  should 
submit  to  death  for  us.  “  The  mighty  Word  and  very 
Man,”  he  says,  “  redeeming  us  by  His  own  blood  in 
a  manner  consonant  to  reason,  gave  Himself  for  a 
redemption  for  those  who  had  been  led  into  captivity. 
.  .  .  The  Lord  has  thus  redeemed  us  through  His  own 
blood,  giving  His  soul  for  our  souls,  His  flesh  for  our 
flesh,  and  has  also  poured  out  the  Spirit  of  the  Father 

1  iii.  18,  6  ;  21,  io;  v.  21,  etc.  2  Per.  of  Christ,  i.  p.  319  (E.T.). 

3  iii.  21  ;  v.  1,  etc. 

4  In  v.  i.  1,  he  speaks  of  the  Word  of  God  redeeming  us  from  the 
apostacy. 


THE  OR  Y  OF  A  THAN  A  SIUS  2 1 5 

for  the  union  and  communion  of  God  and  man.”1  In 
the  fullest  way  He  teaches  that  Christ  by  His  passion  has 
reconciled  us  to  God,  and  procured  for  us  the  forgive¬ 
ness  of  our  sins.2  We  are  debtors,  he  tells  us,  to  none 
but  God,  and  Christ  by  His  cross  has  obliterated  that 
debt.3  Origen  in  like  fashion,  to  take  only  one  other 
instance  among  these  Fathers,  speaks  freely  of  Christ’s 
death  as  a  sacrifice  by  which  He  redeems  us  from  our 
sins.  There  are  rhetorical  passages  in  which  he  con¬ 
nects  this  with  the  idea  hinted  at  above,  viz.,  that 
Satan  through  our  fall  obtained  certain  rights  over  us 
which  Christ  annuls  by  giving  Himself  as  a  sacrifice  in 
our  stead.  He  even  speaks  in  one  place  of  Satan  being 
deceived  in  this  transaction,  thinking  he  could  hold  the 
sinless  soul  of  Christ,  but  finding,  when  he  got  it,  that 
it  was  a  torture  to  him.4  Too  much,  however,  may 
be  made  of  these  casual  utterances,  for  undoubtedly 
Origen’s  prevailing  view  is  that  the  sacrifice  was  offered 
to  God.5 


In  the  Nicene  period  a  distinct  landmark  in  the 
history  of  this  doctrine  is  reached  in  Athanasius,  who, 
in  his  remarkable  tractate  on  The  Incarnation  of  the 
Word,  written  before  the  Arian  controversy  broke  out, 
almost  anticipates  Anselm  in  his  answer  to  the  question 
why  God  became  man.  The  special  merit  of  Athan¬ 
asius  is  that  he  brings  the  incarnation  into  direct 

1  v.  1.  2  iii.  16,  9. 

3  v.  16,  3  ;  1 7 »  3  etc.  4  On  Matt.  xvi.  8. 

5  Harnack  declares  that  Origen  “propounded  views  as  to  the  value  of 
salvation,  and  as  to  the  significance  of  Christ’s  death  on  the  cross,  with  a 
variety  and  detail  rivalled  by  no  theologian  before  him.”  He  mentions  as 
chief  points  that  he  regarded  Christ’s  death  (1)  as  a  victory  over  the 
demons  ;  (2)  as  an  expiation  offered  to  God — all  sins  requiring  expiation, 
and  innocent  blood  having  greater  or  less  value  according  to  the  value  of 
him  who  sheds  it ;  (3)  as  a  vicarious  sacrifice  ;  (4)  as  a  ransom  paid  to 
the  devil  (ii.  p.  367).  Plainly  in  a  logical  mind  like  Origen’s  the  last 
position  could  not  be  seriously  held  with  some  of  the  others. 


2l6 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


relation  with  redemption.  To  explain  the  reason  of 
the  incarnation,  he  goes  back  to  the  original  constitu¬ 
tion  of  man,  and  to  his  fall.  Had  man  stood  in  his 
integrity,  he  would,  he  thinks,  have  overcome  the 
natural  tendency  of  his  body  to  corruption,  and  been 
confirmed  in  holiness.  Death,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
attached  to  disobedience  as  its  penalty.  The  race  by 
sin  has  come  under  this  condemnation,  and  can  do 
nothing  to  relieve  itself  from  death  and  corruption. 
Repentance  alone  would  not  suffice,  for  God,  having 
ordained  death  as  the  penalty  of  sin,  must  abide  true 
to  Himself  in  inflicting  the  penalty  if  atonement  is  not 
made.  “  It  is  monstrous,”  he  says,  “  that  God,  having 
spoken,  should  lie — so  that,  when  He  had  imposed  the 
law  that  man,  if  he  transgressed  the  commandment, 
should  die,  after  the  transgression  man  should  not  die, 
but  His  word  be  broken.  For  God  would  not  be  true, 
if,  having  said  he  should  die,  man  did  not  die.”  1  Still, 
he  argues,  it  is  not  fitting  that  God  should  allow  His 
creation  to  perish  ;  so  the  Logos,  the  very  Creator  of  the 
world,  in  whose  rational  image  man  was  made,  took  our 
nature  upon  Him  that  He  might  redeem  us.  This  He 
did,  as  respects  the  penalty  of  sin,  by  enduring  it  in  our 
stead  ;  positively,  He  brings  into  the  race  anew  the 
principle  of  incorruption.  Taking  our  body,  he  says, 
“  He  surrendered  it  to  death  instead  of  all,  and  offered 
it  to  the  Father  ...  in  order  that  by  all  dying  in 
Him  the  law  with  respect  to  the  corruption  of  mankind 
might  be  abolished.  .  .  .  The  Logos  of  God,  being 
above  all,  by  offering  His  own  temple  and  bodily 
instrument  as  a  substitute  for  the  life  of  all  ( avri^v^op ), 
satisfied  all  that  was  required  by  His  death  ” 2  Similar 
views  are  often  expressed  in  his  discourses  against  the 
Arians.  E-g-,  "  Formerly  the  world,  as  guilty,  lay  under 
1  On  Incarnation ,  6,  8,  9,  etc.  2  Ibid.  8,  9. 


RANSOM  TO  SATAN  THEORY 


21 7 


the  condemnation  of  the  law,  but  now  the  word  of  God 
has  taken  on  Himself  the  judgment,  and  having  suffered 
in  the  body  for  all,  has  bestowed  salvation  on  all.”  1 

It  will  be  seen  from  these  instances  how  little 
ground  there  is  for  the  assertion  that  the  only,  or 
prevailing  theory,  of  the  atonement  in  the  early  Church 
was  the  mythological  one  of  a  ransom  paid  to  Satan. 
That  theory  is  indeed  found,  and  had  a  place  with 
others  in  post-Nicene  times  and  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
The  germ  of  it,  we  have  seen,  is  met  with  in  Origen  ; 
and  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  in  the  fourth  century,  gives  it 
explicit  statement.  The  devil  is  supposed  by  man’s 
sin  to  have  acquired  certain  rights  over  him,  which  God 
in  equity  cannot  set  aside.  He  will  not  conquer  even 
Satan  by  violence,  but  in  justice,  and  gives  His  only- 
begotten  Son  for  the  ransom  of  the  world.  Only, 
Satan  is  deceived  in  the  transaction,  for,  accepting 
Christ  in  lieu  of  the  world  of  sinners,  he  finds  he  cannot 
hold  Him.2  Even  this  grotesque  view,  as  Dorner 
points  out,  is  a  distorted  witness  to  the  fact  that 
atonement  has  a  respect  to  justice.  Always,  however, 
there  were  those  who  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
this  mythical  theory,  and  even  where  it  is  found,  it  is 
generally  alongside  of  other  representations,  which 
show  that  it  is  more  or  less  a  rhetorical  conception. 
If  Gregory  of  Nyssa  has  it — and  it  is  chiefly  through 
his  influence  it  found  its  way  into  Mediaeval  theology  3 
- — his  friend  and  namesake  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  as 
decisively  rejects  it.  “To  whom,”  he  asks,  “was  that 

1  Or  at.  i.  60.  2  Gregory,  On  the  Great  Catechism ,  22-26. 

3  Gregory,  however,  has  many  profound  thoughts,  emphasising,  e.g ,, 
the  idea  that  in  Christ  God  united  Himself  with  the  whole  of  humanity,  so 
that  in  this  One  all  died,  and  His  resurrection  and  exaltation  is  the 
resurrection  and  exaltation  of  all.  He  lays  stress  also  on  the  element  of 
obedience  in  Christ’s  sacrifice. 


218 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


blood  offered  that  was  shed  for  us,  and  why  was  it 
shed  ?  I  mean  the  precious  and  lordly  blood  of  our 
God  and  High  Priest  and  Sacrifice.  We  were  retained 
under  bondage  of  the  evil  one,  sold  under  sin,  and 
receiving  pleasure  in  exchange  for  wickedness.  Now, 
since  a  ransom  belongs  only  to  him  who  holds  us  in 
bondage,  I  ask,  to  whom  was  this  offered,  and  for  what 
cause  ?  If  to  the  evil  one,  shame  on  the  outrage  !  Then 
the  robber  receives  a  ransom,  not  only  from  God,  but 
which  consists  of  God  Himself,  and  has  such  an 
illustrious  payment  for  his  tyranny,  a  payment  for 
whose  sake  it  would  have  been  right  to  have  left  us 
alone  altogether.”  1 

It  is  naturally,  however,  in  the  Western  Church, 
where  a  more  juristic  habit  of  mind  prevailed,  that  we 
are  specially  to  look  for  the  development  of  the  idea  of 
Christ’s  death  as  a  satisfaction  to  justice.  The  cases 
just  cited  show  that  this  idea  is  by  no  means  confined 
to  the  West  ;2  but  it  is  in  Western  writers,  as  Hilary, 
Ambrose,  Augustine,  that  it  is  more  frequently  met 
with,3  though  here  also  generally  in  combination  with 
other  points  of  view.  It  is  at  the  same  time  important 
to  notice  that  Augustine  and  the  others  never  lose 
sight  of  the  fact  that  it  is  God’s  love  which  is  the  cause 
of  the  reconciliation.  It  is  not  in  their  view  an  angry, 
vengeful  God  whose  wrath  is  appeased  by  the  sacrifice 
of  His  Son — though  this  is  a  representation  often  given 
of  their  doctrine.  “  For  it  was  not,”  says  Augustine, 
“  from  the  time  that  we  were  reconciled  unto  Him  by 

1  Orat.  xlv.  22. 

2  Gieseler,  e.g.,  finds  the  basis  of  the  satisfaction  theory  in  Athanasius, 
Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  Greg.  Naz.  (?),  Cyril,  and  Chrysostom  ( Dogmengcsch . 
P-  383)- 

3  Cf.  Harnack,  iii,  p.  312  (E.T.)  ;  Ritschl,  Justif  and  Recon,  i.  pp, 

197,  198  (E.T.). 


THE  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  MASS 


219 


the  blood  of  His  Son  that  He  began  to  love  us  ;  but 

He  did  so  before  the  foundation  of  the  world . 

Let  not  the  fact,  then,  of  our  having  been  reconciled  to 
God  through  the  death  of  His  Son  be  so  listened  to 
or  understood  as  if  the  Son  reconciled  us  unto  Him  in 
this  respect  that  He  now  began  to  love  those  whom 
He  formerly  hated,  as  enemy  is  reconciled  to  enemy,  so 
that  therefore  they  became  friends,  and  mutual  love 
takes  the  place  of  their  mutual  hatred,  but  we  were 
reconciled  unto  Him  who  already  loved  us,  but  with 
whom  we  were  at  enmity  because  of  our  sins.”  1 

Yet  another  witness,  if  such  were  needed,  that 
Christ’s  death  was  universally  regarded  in  the  early 
Church  as  a  propitiatory  sacrifice — the  ground  of  the 
forgiveness  of  sins,  and  of  all  saving  blessing — is  to  be 
found  in  that  observance  which  is  the  greatest  historical 
perversion  of  the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  viz.,  the 
sacrifice  of  the  mass .  The  change  from  the  original, 
simple  conception  of  the  eucharist  as  a  spiritual 
sacrifice  of  prayer  and  thanksgiving,  to  the  conception 
of  it  as  a  “  sin-offering,”  in  which  the  priest,  as  sacrificer, 
offers  for  the  people’s  sins,  is  already  well  accomplished 
by  the  time  of  Cyprian,  in  the  middle  of  the  third 
century.  But,  however  strenuously  we  may  reject  this 
conception,  it  will  not  at  least  be  doubted  that  the  idea 
which  underlay  it — which,  indeed,  made  it  possible — 
was  that  of  Christ’s  death  as  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  for 
sin.  The  early  liturgies  make  this  clear  beyond  dispute. 
“  The  Lord  Himself,”  says  the  Liturgy  of  Mark, 
“  delivered  Himself  up  for  our  sins,  and  died  in  the 

1  On  John  xvii.  21-29  ( Tractates  on  John ,  cx.  6).  Calvin  endorses 
the  passage,  Instit .  ii.  16.  3,  4.  Such  passages  refute  the  statement  of 
Harnack  (iii.  p.  313)  that  the  Latin  view  of  the  work  of  Christ  was  that 
of  “  the  propitiation  of  an  angry  God  ” — therefore  betrayed  “  a  low  state 
of  moral  and  legal  views  ”  (p.  31 1). 


220 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


flesh  for  all.”  The  Liturgy  of  James  speaks  of  the 
offering  to  God  of  “  this  dread  and  bloodless  sacrifice.” 
Many  similar  testimonies  might  be  quoted. 

II.  There  can  be  no  reasonable  question,  therefore, 
as  to  the  general  faith  of  the  Church  in  the  truly 
atoning  virtue  of  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ ;  but  as  yet 
there  had  been  no  systematic  attempt  to  bring  the 
various  aspects  of  Christ’s  saving  work  into  unity,  or  to 
give  them  the  necessary  theological  grounding.  This 
was  the  task  undertaken  by  Anselm,  and  it  is  the  fact 
of  his  undertaking  it,  and  accomplishing  it  with  so 
striking  a  measure  of  success,  which  gives  him  his 
epoch-making  importance.  From  the  opening  portion 
of  his  Cur  Deus  Homo ,  it  is  evident  that  the  subject  of 
the  nature  and  necessity  of  redemption  was  in  that  age 
occupying  many  minds  ;  and,  moreover,  that  it  was 
from  the  Christological  side — the  side  of  the  reason  or 
necessity  of  the  Incarnation — that  it  was  commonly 
approached.  The  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ 
being  settled,  men  had  time  to  reflect  on  its  soterio- 
logical  bearings ;  and  the  thing  which  above  all 
staggered  them — which  was  principally  urged  as  an 
objection — was  that  so  amazing  a  condescension  as  is 
implied  in  the  Son  of  God  taking  upon  Him  the  nature 
of  the  creature,  and  stooping  to  such  shame  and  humilia¬ 
tion  in  His  sufferings  and  death,  should  be  necessary 
for  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  and,  generally,  for  man’s 
salvation.  That  it  was  necessary  was  the  assumption 
on  both  sides — but  why  ?  Could  not  God,  in  the 
exercise  of  His  omnipotence,  have  redeemed  us  as 
easily  as  He  had  created  the  world  ?  Could  He  not 
forgive  sins  out  of  His  pure  mercy  without  this  infinite 
expenditure  of  means  ?  Or,  if  mediation  was  necessary, 
why,  should  not  an  angel,  or  some  inferior,  yet  glorious 


THE  A  TONEMENT  IN  ANSELM 


221 


Being,  be  chosen  as  Mediator  instead  of  the  only- 
begotten  Son  ? 1 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  these  are  questions  which 
naturally  arise,  and  press  themselves  upon  the 
thoughtful  mind,  in  connection  with  this  great  subject. 
For,  once  the  reality  of  the  incarnation  is  acknowledged, 
it  is  impossible  not  to  concede  that  there  must  be 
some  stupendous  exigency  or  occasion  calling  for  it  ; 
and  once  it  is  allowed,  again,  that  the  incarnation  and 
the  sufferings  and  death  that  followed  from  it  are 
connected  with  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  it  can  scarcely 
be  questioned  that  this  connection  has  its  ground  in 
deep  principles  of  the  divine  character  and  government ; 
that  there  are  reasons  which  make  imperative  this 
amazing  interposition.  This  method  of  salvation,  with 
its  awful  entail  of  suffering  and  shame  on  the  Son  of 
God,  can  be  no  mere  preferential  scheme  of  the  divine 
wisdom — one  which  God  has  chosen  to  adopt  while 
others  less  costly  and  painful  were  open  to  Him. 
Still  less  is  it  conceivable  that  it  has  been  chosen, 
though  sins  could  have  been  remitted,  and  the  sinner 
restored,  by  an  act  of  pure  grace.  Wherein  then  lies 
the  necessity  ?  Anselm’s  significance  results  from  the 
fact  that  he  was  the  first  who,  with  a  complete  view  of 
the  problem,  raised  this  question  in  its  whole  compass, 
and  sought  to  give  it  a  reasoned  answer. 

The  general  nature  of  Anselm’s  answer  will  be  most 
easily  shown  by  a  brief  review  of  the  main  points  of 
his  argument.  Anselm  rightly  saw,  at  the  outset,  that 
if  there  existed  a  necessity  for  the  incarnation,  and  for 
such  sufferings  as  those  to  which  the  Son  of  God 
submitted,  that  man’s  salvation  should  be  secured,  this 
necessity  must  lie,  where  Scripture  already  places  it,  in 

1  Ctir  Deus  Homo ,  i.  i,  3,  5,  6. 


222 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  nature  of  sin  as  wrong  done  to  God,  and  in  the 
principles  of  the  divine  character  which  unchangeably 
regulate  God  in  His  treatment  of  sin.  What  then  were 
these  principles  ?  This  was  an  inquiry  which  had 
never  hitherto  been  formally  instituted.  Augustine 
had  probed  deeply  the  evil  of  sin — had  given  the 
Church  a  profound  sense  of  its  gravity — had  shown 
how  it  involved  the  individual  and  the  race  in  con¬ 
demnation  ;  but  he  had  not  investigated  this  other  side 
— what  there  is  in  the  character  of  God  which  requires 
Him  to  react  against  sin  in  the  form  of  punishment, 
and  under  what  conditions  the  forgiveness  of  sin  is 
possible.  He  had  not,  in  short,  investigated  the 
subject  on  its  Godward  side,  or  in  its  bearings  on  the 
character  and  necessity  of  Christ’s  work.  Here  Anselm 
takes  his  step  forward.  His  book  is  in  the  form  of  a 
dialogue,  in  which,  by  question  and  answer,  he  gradually 
brings  his  interlocutor  round  to  the  acknowledgment  of 
his  position.  He  first,  disposes  of  the  ransom  to  Satan 
theory  ; 1  which,  condemned  likewise  by  Abelard,  has 
thereafter  but  slight  influence  on  the  history  of  this 
doctrine. 

The  way  thus  cleared,  Anselm  goes  straight  to  the 
idea  of  sin  as  that  which  robs  God  of  His  due  honour, 
and  from  this  conception  proceeds  to  develop  his 
own  theory.  Obedience  he  regards  as  a  debt  which 
man  owes  to  God.  The  nature  of  the  obligation  is 
thus  forcibly  expressed — “  The  whole  will  of  a  rational 
creature  ought  to  be  subject  to  the  will  of  God.” 2 
Paying  this  debt  none  sins  ;  who  withholds  this,  does 
sin.  Whoever  renders  not  to  God  this  due  honour 
takes  from  Him  that  which  is  His,  and  does  Him  dis¬ 
honour.  And  this  is  sin.  This  first  step  leads  logically 
to  a  second.  Even  were  the  creature  able  to  pay  back 


ANSELM'S  “  CUR  DEUS  HOMO ” 


223 


to  God  (which  he  is  not)  that  which  he  has  taken  away, 
this  would  not  satisfy  for  the  wrong  already  done. 
Besides  the  paying  back,  and  rendering  thereafter  of 
the  due  obedience,  there  would  still  be  required  satis¬ 
faction  for  the  dishonour  done  by  afoobedience.  Here 
it  is  obvious  that  Anselm  moves  in  faulty  categories — 
categories  borrowed  from  the  sphere  of  private  rights — 
and  this  hampers  his  treatment  throughout.  But  it 
should  also  be  recognised  that  the  fault  lies  more  in 
the  form  than  in  the  essence  of  his  argument.  Anselm 
certainly  does  not  mean  that  God’s  relation  to  the 
sinner  is  wholly  analogous  to  that  of  a  civil  suitor 
pursuing  the  person  who  has  injured  him  for  damages. 
The  further  conduct  of  his  argument  is  directed  to 
show  that  God’s  action  is  regulated,  not  by  injured  self- 
love,  but  by  the  highest  moral*  necessity.  Anselm  is 
absolutely  right  in  his  starting-point,  that  the  whole 
will  of  a  rational  creature  ought  to  be  subject  to  God. 
Anything  less  than  this,  or  contrary  to  this,  is  sin.  He 
is  right,  too,  in  holding  that  there  is  more  in  sin  than 
the  intrinsic  wrong  of  the  action  ;  that  in  addition  the 
creature  is  guilty  towards  God  in  the  fact  that  he 
violates  his  duty  towards  Him.  Anselm  speaks  of  the 
“  honour  ”  of  God.  We  speak  rather  of  the  supreme 
obligation  to  “  glorify  ”  God,  and  of  sin  as  the  with¬ 
holding  from  God  of  the  “glory”  due  to  Him  —  in 
Pauline  phrase,  “  glorifying  Him  not  as  God  ”  1 — but 
the  meaning  is  the  same. 

The  question  now  arises  whether  it  is  possible  for 
God  to  forgive  sin  by  an  act  of  mercy  alone  —  no 
satisfaction  being  made  to  His  injured  honour.  It  is 
God’s  command,  as  the  objector  points  out,  that  man 
should  forgive  freely.  Why  may  not  God  forgive 
freely  also  ?  Would  it  not  be  a  higher  thing  for  God 

1  Rom.  i.  21. 


224 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


freely  to  forgive  an  injury  done  to  Himself  than  to 
require  satisfaction  for  it?  Anselm  answers  “No”; 
and  precisely  for  the  reason  that  God  is  not  a  private 
person,  but  is  God.  God’s  will  is  not  His  own  in  the 
sense  that  anything  is  permissible  to  Him,  or  becomes 
right  or  proper  simply  because  He  wills  it.  “  It  does 
not  follow,”  he  says,  “  that  if  God  would  lie,  it  would 
be  right  to  lie,  but  rather  that  he  were  not  God.”  1  God 
therefore  cannot  will  at  pleasure  that  which  is  incon¬ 
sistent  with  His  honour,  or  treat  violations  of  His 
honour  as  if  they  were  not.  As  the  Supreme  One, 
whose  judgments  are  ever  according  to  truth,  God 
cannot  call  sin  aught  but  what  it  is,  or  deal  with  it 
otherwise  than  according  to  its  actual  desert.  If  it  is 
not  punished,  or  adequate  satisfaction  made  for  it,  it  is 
unjustly  forgiven.  He  argues  that  this  view  is  con¬ 
firmed  if  we  take  a  just  estimate  of  the  guilt  involved 
in  not  rendering  to  God  His  due  honour.  Rightly 
considered,  he  says,  there  is  nothing  in  the  universe 
more  intolerable  than  that  the  creature  should  take 
away  from  God  His  glory.2  As  he  puts  the  matter 
later,  were  the  alternative  that  we  disobey  God,  or  that 
the  whole  world  should  perish,  and  go  to  nothingness — 
nay,  were  worlds  multiplied  to  infinity,  and  the  same 
choice  presented — our  duty  would  still  be  to  obey  God 
in  however  slight  a  command  He  laid  upon  us.3  Such, 
he  says,  is  the  exceeding  gravity  of  sin.  Hence  also 
the  necessity — the  rationale — of  its  punishment.  Either 
man  of  his  own  free-will  yields  due  submission  to  God, 
or  God  subjects  the  transgressor  unwillingly  by  punish¬ 
ment,  and  so  declares  Himself  Lord  ;  in  other  words, 
vindicates  His  honour  upon  him.  “  Therefore,”  he 
says,  “  should  any  man  or  bad  angel  be  unwilling  to 
be  subject  to  the  divine  will  and  rule,  yet  he  cannot 
1  i.  12.  2  i.  13.  3  i.  21. 


ANSELM* S  “CUR  DEUS  HOMO ” 


225 


escape  from  it  ;  for,  trying  to  flee  from  under  the 
will  that  commands,  he  rushes  under  the  will  that 
punishes.”  1 

This  being  so,  the  question  recurs  with  redoubled 
force — Who  then  can  be  saved  ?  If  sin  can  be  forgiven 
only  on  condition  that  a  proportionate  satisfaction  is 
made  for  it,  while  in  enormity  its  guilt  is  practically 
infinite,  how  is  such  satisfaction  possible  ?  Man,  as 
Anselm  brings  out,  clearly  cannot  make  this  satisfaction 
from  his  own  resources ;  for  all  he  could  bring  he 
already  owes  to  God,  and  he  has  not  the  ability  to 
bring  what  God  requires.  Neither  repentance  nor 
future  obedience  can  suffice  to  obliterate  the  past.2 
From  this  point  Anselm  goes  on  to  develop  the  con¬ 
ditions  under  which  a  true  satisfaction  is  possible,  and 
to  show  in  what  way  these  conditions  are  fulfilled  in 
Jesus  Christ.  Briefly,  the  satisfaction  must  be  such  as 
will  outweigh  all  the  guilt  of  mankind,  which  yet  is  of 
a  degree  that  it  could  not  be  compensated  for  by  the 
whole  created  universe.  It  is  such  a  satisfaction, 
therefore,  as  can  be  offered  only  by  God.  Yet  it  must 
be  offered  in  human  nature,  else  it  would  not  be  man 
that  made  amends  :  it  would  not  be  a  satisfaction  for 
man.  Hence  the  necessity  for  the  Redeemer  being 
God  and  man — for  the  incarnation.3  The  deity  of 
Christ  gives  infinite  value  to  all  He  does  ;  His  humanity 
is  the  medium  in  which  the  satisfaction  is  rendered. 
But  what  is  the  nature  of  this  satisfaction  ?  Obedience 
is  necessary,  for  it  was  needful  that,  as  by  the  dis¬ 
obedience  of  man  death  had  come  upon  the  human 
race,  so  by  the  obedience  of  man  should  life  be  given 
back.4  But  obedience  even  in  the  case  of  Christ  is  not 
enough,  for  in  this  He  does  not  go  beyond  what  His 

1  i.  15.  2  i.  20,  23,  24.  3  ii.  6,  7. 

4  i.  3.  There  is  here  a  glimpse  of  the  representative  idea, 

Q 


226 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


duty  as  man  requires  of  Him.1  Christ,  as  man,  is 
under  obligation  to  obey  the  whole  law  of  God  ;  but 
Christ,  as  sinless,  was  not  under  obligation  to  suffer  and 
die.  God  could  not  justly  have  laid  this  as  a  necessity 
upon  Him.2  It  was  His  own  voluntary  act  to  en¬ 
counter  suffering  and  death  in  the  faithful  discharge  of 
His  duty  to  His  Father,  and  for  righteousness’  sake.3 
But  by  this  voluntary  surrender  of  Himself  to  death  in 
fidelity  to  His  Father’s  will,  He  rendered  God  a  glory 
which  can  only  be  measured  by  the  magnitude  of  the 
sacrifice  it  entailed.  For  it  were  more  meet  that  the 
whole  creation  should  perish  than  that  anyone  should 
take  the  life  of  the  Son  of  God.4  Yet  this  infinitely 
precious  life  Christ  sacrificed  to  His  Father’s  honour.5 
Here  then  is  a  deed  done  in  human  nature  by  One 
who  did  not  owe  it  which  brings  infinite  glory  to  God  ; 
the  merit  of  which  more  than  counterbalances  all  the 
demerit  of  man’s  sin  ;  which  may,  therefore,  be  accepted 
by  the  Father  as  a  satisfaction  for  the  sin  of  the  world 
and  a  ground  for  the  forgiveness  of  that  sin.6 

Such,  in  outline,  is  Anselm’s  theory,  and,  apart  from 
the  over-scholastic  form  in  which  it  is  cast,  it  is  easy 
to  perceive  its  chief  merits  and  defects.  Its  strength 
lies  above  all  in  the  basis  it  lays  for  a  need  of  satisfac¬ 
tion  for  sin  in  the  immutable  character  of  God,  which 
renders  it  impossible  that  He  should  permit  the  viola¬ 
tions  of  His  honour  to  go  unpunished.  On  this  basis 
Anselm  rears  his  demonstration  that  for  the  rendering 
of  this  satisfaction  a  divine  as  well  as  human  Redeemer 
is  necessary.  It  is  strong,  further,  in  the  ethical  view 
it  takes  throughout  of  Christ’s  sufferings  —  laying  the 
stress,  not,  as  many  theories  do,  on  the  quantum  of  the 

1  i.  9;  ii.  II.  2  ii.  10,  II.  3  i.  4.  4  ii.  14 

5  ii.  18.  6  ii.  19. 


CRITICISM  OF  ANSELM’S  THEORY 


227 


sufferings,  but  on  their  character  as  sufferings  voluntarily 
endured  for  righteousness’  sake,  in  fidelity  to  the 
Father.1  On  the  other  hand  it  will  be  noticed  that,  in 
one  important  respect,  the  theory  differs  from  earlier 
and  later  satisfaction  theories  (from  that  of  Athanasius, 
for  example),  in  that  it  has  no  place  for  the  idea  of 
endurance  of  the  penalty  of  sin.  In  other  words,  while 
starting  with  so  strong  an  assertion  of  the  punitive 
will  of  God,  it  yet  at  no  point  brings  the  satisfaction 
of  Christ  into  direct  relation  with  this  punitive  will. 
Christ’s  satisfaction  consists  purely  in  His  sufferings 
unto  death  conceived  as  a  meritorious  tribute  voluntarily 
offered  by  Him  to  the  honour  of  the  Father.  He 
gave  up  His  life  because  this  was  required  of  Him 
as  a  witness  to  righteousness  for  His  Father’s  sake. 
Obedience  throughout  life  was  required  of  Him  as  a 
duty.  His  death  was,  in  Catholic  phrase,  a  work  of 
supererogation — something  which  could  not  justly  have 
been  demanded  of  Him — the  merit  of  which,  there¬ 
fore,  could  be  applied  to  compensate  for  the  demerits 
of  others.  The  scheme,  in  short,  is  drawn  up,  in  form 
at  least,  on  the  assumptions  of  the  Catholic  doctrine  of 
merits,  and  shares  the  defects  of  the  latter.  It  is 
clearly  inadmissible  to  conceive  of  the  atonement  as  a 
simple  balancing  of  merits  and  demerits,  with  the  effect 
of  a  cancelling  of  the  one  through  the  overplus  of  the 
other.  With  this  is  connected  another  fault  of  the 
theory,  arising  in  part  from  the  too  strong  insistence 
on  the  idea  of  debt,  viz.,  that  its  treatment  of  salvation 
is  almost  entirely  objective.  The  sinner’s  debt  is  paid 
by  One  who  stands  outside  of  him,  and  prominence 
is  not  given  to  the  nexus  of  faith  —  that  spiritual 
identification  of  sinner  and  Saviour  —  which  alone 

1  This  is  the  feature  of  it  which  attracted  Bushnell,  in  the  preface  to 
his  Vicarious  Sacrifice. 


228 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


makes  the  sinner  a  real  partaker  in  that  which  Christ 
has  done  for  him.  Anselm,  in  speaking  of  that  which 
makes  the  sinner  participant  in  Christ’s  merit,  hardly 
ever  gets  beyond  the  relation  of  discipleskip — the  mere 
following  of  Christ’s  example.1  Yet  it  would  not  be 
just  to  make  too  much  of  this  ;  for  Anselm,  too,  knew 
well  what  it  was  to  trust  the  Saviour,  nay,  to  trust 
Him  with  a  whole-hearted  reliance  on  His  death  for 
salvation.  The  words  in  the  direction  for  the  visita¬ 
tion  of  the  sick  usually  attributed  to  him  2  have  often 
been  quoted  :  “  Dost  thou  believe  that  thou  canst  not 
be  saved  but  by  the  death  of  Christ  ?  Go  to,  then, 
and  while  thy  soul  abideth  in  thee,  put  all  thy  con¬ 
fidence  in  this  death  alone — place  thy  trust  in  no  other 
thing: — connect  thyself  wholly  with  this  death — cast 
thyself  wholly  on  this  death — wrap  thyself  wholly  in 
this  death.  And  if  God  would  judge  thee,  say,  ‘  Lord  ! 
I  place  the  death  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  between  me 
and  Thy  judgment,  otherwise  I  will  not  contend,  or 
enter  into  judgment,  with  thee.’  And  if  He  shall  say 
unto  thee  that  thou  art  a  sinner,  say  unto  Him,  ‘  I  place 
the  death  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  between  me  and  my 
sins.’  If  He  shall  say  unto  thee  that  thou  hast  deserved 
damnation,  say,  ‘  Lord  !  I  put  the  death  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  between  Thee  and  all  my  sins,  I  offer  His 
merits  for  my  own,  which  I  should  have  but  have  not.’ 
If  He  say  He  is  angry  with  thee,  say,  ‘  Lord  !  I  place 
the  death  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  between  me  and 
Thy  anger.’  ”  Here  is  all  the  nexus  God  requires 
between  Christ’s  death  and  any  soul  of  man  ! 

It  is  remarkable  that  Anselm’s  speculations  seem  to 
have  produced  little,  if  any,  immediate  effect.3  At  least 

1  ii.  19.  2  The  authorship  is,  however,  doubted. 

3  “  He  stands  alone,”  Baur  says,  “and  does  not  seem  to  have  con- 


MORAL  THEORY  OF  ABELARD 


229 


their  influence  is  not  traceable  on  Abelard  and  Bernard, 
who  come  directly  after.1  If  Abelard  is  really  inde¬ 
pendent  of  Anselm,  the  fact  is  only  another  proof  of 
how  men’s  minds  at  this  period  were  naturally  con¬ 
verging  on  this  problem.  The  significance  of  Abelard 
is  that  he  represents  the  opposite  pole  of  soteriological 
doctrine  from  Anselm.  A  brilliant  dialectician,  but, 
as  events  showed,  sadly  lacking  in  moral  depth  and 
stability,  his  view  of  atonement  is  defective  precisely  on 
the  side  on  which  Anselm’s  was  strong.  With  Anselm 
he  rejects  the  theory  of  satisfaction  to  Satan,  but, 
together  with  this,  rejects  every  form  of  the  satisfaction 
doctrine.  “  How  cruel  and  unjust  it  seems,”  he  says, 
“  that  any  one  should  require  the  blood  of  the  innocent 
as  a  price,  or  in  any  way  think  it  right  that  the  innocent 
should  be  put  to  death.  Much  less  has  God  accepted 
the  death  of  His  Son  as  the  price  of  His  reconciliation 
to  the  whole  world.” 2  Of  course,  the  teachers  who 
thought  differently  could  and  did  reply  with  Augustine 
that  they  did  not  regard  the  atonement  as  the  cause, 
but  as  the  fruit  and  expression  of  God’s  love.3  Abelard, 
however,  places  the  effect  of  Christ’s  sufferings  and 
death  wholly  in  their  moral  results.  The  amazing  love 
of  God  in  giving  up  His  Son  to  suffering  and  death  for 
us  enkindles  in  us  a  responsive  love  which  is  ready  for 
any  sacrifice,  and  this  becomes  the  ground  of  the  for¬ 
giveness  of  our  sins.  “  Redemption,”  he  declares,  “  is 
that  greatest  love  enkindled  in  us  by  Christ’s  passion, 
a  love  which  not  only  delivers  us  from  the  bondage  of 
sin,  but  also  acquires  for  us  the  true  freedom  of  children, 

vincecl  any  of  his  successors  of  the  necessity  of  the  standpoint  which  he 
assumed.” — Versohmmgslekre,  sect.  189. 

1  Abelard  (1079-1 142)  ;  Bernard  (1091-1 153). 

2  On  Rom.  iii.  22-26. 

3  Thus  Bernard,  the  Lombard,  Aquinas.  On  Bernard,  cf.  Neander, 
viii.  p.  21 1  (Bohn). 


230 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


where  love  instead  of  fear  becomes  the  ruling  affection.”  1 
The  design  of  God,  therefore,  in  the  Son’s  incarnation 
and  passion  is  to  produce  this  responsive  love  in  us.2 
Abelard  does,  indeed,  occasionally  cross  this  representa¬ 
tion  with  thoughts  more  in  accordance  with  the  ordinary 
Church  doctrine,  as  where  in  one  place  he  says  that 
what  is  wanting  in  our  merits  Christ  supplies  from  His 
own  ;  and  even,  on  Gal.  iii.  i  3,  speaks  of  the  propitiation 
of  divine  justice  by  Christ,  who  on  the  Cross  became  a 
curse  for  us.3  But  these  expressions  must  either  be 
treated  as  inconsequences — accommodations  to  current 
views — or  be  interpreted  in  harmony  with  the  general 
strain  of  his  teaching.4  In  Abelard,  then,  we  have  the 
typical  representative  of  what  is  called  the  moral  view 
of  the  atonement,  as  in  Anselm  we  have  the  repre¬ 
sentative  of  the  satisfaction  theory.  To  one  or  other 
of  these  generic  forms  all  theories  of  atonement  may 
be  in  principle  reduced.  But  the  fact  to  which  atten¬ 
tion  has  to  be  drawn  is,  that  Abelard’s  doctrine  was  at 
once  resisted  by  his  great  opponent  Bernard,  as  alike 
in  itself  inadequate,  and  out  of  harmony  with  what  had 
been  always  the  faith  of  the  Church.  In  reducing 
Christ’s  sufferings  and  death  to  an  example  of  love, 
Bernard  holds  that  Abelard  robs  them  of  that  pro¬ 
foundly  redemptive  significance  with  which  the  Church, 
following  Scripture,  had  always  invested  them.  Bernard 
has  not  Anselm’s  speculative  ability.  He  frames  no 
theory  of  his  own  ;  defends,  indeed,  in  a  modified  way 
the  old  idea  of  a  redemption  from  Satan,  whose  dominion 

1  On  Rom.  iii.  22-26. 

2  This,  of  course,  is  in  itself  a  thoroughly  true  thought.  The  question 
is  as  to  its  adequacy  as  a  theory  of  atonement. 

3  Cf.  Ritschl,  Tustif.  and  Reconcil.  i.  pp.  S7-38  (E.T. )  ;  Dorner, 
Syst.  of  Doct.  iv.  p.  19  (E.T.). 

4  Harnack  also  makes  it  a  complaint  against  Abelard  that  he  does  not 
teach  that  Christ  bore  the  penalty  of  sin,  though  it  is  not  easy  to  under¬ 
stand  his  own  meaning  in  this  connection  (vi.  p.  80). 


BERNARD  ON  A  TONEMENT 


231 


over  us,  if  unjustly  acquired,  is  justly  permitted,  and 
beyond  that  treats  the  atonement  as  an  unfathomable 
mystery  of  God's  wisdom  and  grace.  “  Why,”  he  says, 
“  did  He  accomplish  that  by  His  blood  which  He  might 
have  accomplished  by  a  word  ?  Ask  Himself.  It  is 
vouchsafed  to  me  to  know  the  fact ,  not  the  wherefore.”  1 
He  points  out,  as  all  these  teachers  do,  that  it  is  not 
the  mere  shedding  of  the  blood  of  Christ,  but  the  will 
of  Him  who  offered  it,  that  was  acceptable  to  God.  But 
the  special  contribution  of  Bernard — one  which  marks 
a  real  advance  in  the  history  of  this  doctrine,  though 
the  germ  is  much  older — is  the  idea  of  the  organic 
relation  of  Christ  and  His  people  as  explaining  how 
the  satisfaction  of  one  should  avail  for  the  many.  The 
atonement  is  not  a  case  of  bare  external  substitution — 
a  view  which  always  creates  offence — but  the  vicarious 
suffering  of  the  Head  for  the  members.  His  own 
memorable  words  are,  “  The  Head  satisfied  for  the 
members,  Christ  for  His  own  bowels  ”  ( satisfecit  caput 
pro  membris ,  Christus  pro  visceribus  sms')'}  On  2  Cor. 
v.  14  he  explains  himself  thus,  “  Clearly  the  satisfaction 
of  one  is  imputed,  as  if  that  one  bore  the  sins  of  all, 
nor  is  there  any  longer  found  one  who  sinned,  and  one 
who  satisfied,  because  the  one  Christ  is  Head  and 
body.”  3  This  undeniably  supplies  an  element  lacking 
in  Anselm. 

I  pass  by  other  schoolmen  to  come  at  once  to  the 
greatest  of  all,  Thomas  Aquinas,4  with  whom  the 
development  of  the  doctrine  in  this  age  may  be  said  to 
culminate.5  What  one  remarks  chiefly  in  Aquinas  is 

1  Cf.  Neander,  viii.  p.  210  (Bohn). 

2  Tractate  against  Abelard,  vi.  15. 

3  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  p.  54  (E.T.);  Hagenbach,  Hist,  of  Doct.  ii.  p.  284 

(E.T.).  4  1227-1274. 

5  The  chief  link  in  the  transition  to  Aquinas  is  Peter  the  Lombard  in 
his  Sentences.  Peter  makes  deliverance  from  the  devil  depend  on  deliver- 


232 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  comprehensiveness  of  his  survey — his  desire  to 
embrace  in  his  view  all  sides  and  all  elements  in  the 
atonement  which  inquiry  had  brought  to  light.1  His 
theory,  from  this  eclectic  tendency,  has  not  the  close 
logical  cohesion  of  that  of  Anselm  ;  in  some  respects  it 
falls  behind  it,  while  in  others  it  shows  an  advance. 
Aquinas  falls  distinctly  behind  Anselm  in  his  failure  to 
ground  the  atonement  in  a  necessity  of  the  divine 
nature.  In  harmony  with  the  prevalent  scholastic 
tendency  to  exalt  the  will  of  God,  he  held  not  only 
that  it  was  possible  that  another  way  of  salvation 
might  have  been  found — a  view  in  which  he  but  followed 
Augustine,  Bernard,  the  Lombard,  and  others  2 — but 
that  in  His  sovereignty  God  might  have  dispensed  with 
satisfaction  altogether.  This  concession,  as  Anselm 
had  already  demonstrated,  weakens  the  whole  founda¬ 
tion  of  the  doctrine  of  satisfaction,  and  introduces  an 
element  of  arbitrariness  which  readily  passes  over  into 
the  acceptilation  theory  of  Duns  Scotus,3  the  theory,  viz., 
that  the  atonement  has  only  the  value  which  God’s 
will  chooses  to  put  upon  it.4  On  the  other  hand, 
Aquinas  advances  beyond  Anselm  in  his  adoption  of 
Bernard’s  principle  of  Christ  satisfying  as  the  Head  of 
the  Church, — “  As  a  natural  body,”  he  says,  “  is  a  unity, 
so  is  the  Church,  the  mystical  body  of  Christ,  reckoned 
along  with  Christ  her  Head  as  one  person,”  5 — and  also 

ance  from  sin  ;  repudiates  the  position  that  Christ  appeased  the  wrath  of 
the  Father,  who  was  thereby  induced  to  love  ;  teaches  that  Christ  bore 
the  penalty  of  our  sins,  and  leaves  it  open  to  affirm  that  another  mode  of 
redemption  was  possible  to  God,  though  this  was  the  best.  Cf.  Ritschl, 
i.  p.  42.  1  Cf.  his  Summa ,  iii.  Quests.  46-49. 

2  Cf.  Neander,  viii.  p.  210  (Bohn);  Ritschl,  i.  p.  43;  Harnack,  vi. 
p.  191. 

3  Died  in  1308.  4  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  pp.  68-69. 

6  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  pp.  54,  56  ;  Hagenbach,  ii.  p.  287.  In  strictness 
this  would  yield  the  view  of  a  limited  atonement.  We  guard  against  this 
by  recognising  that  Christ  is  not  only  the  Head  of  the  Church,  but  in  a 
true  sense  also  the  Head  of  humanity — the  new  Head  of  the  race. 


PENAL  ASPECT  IN  SCHOOLMEN 


233 


in  apparently  recognising  that  Christ’s  satisfaction 
embraced  as  one  of  its  aspects  the  endurance  of  the 
penal  consequences  of  transgression.  “  Christ,”  he  holds, 
“  must  take  upon  Himself  that  punishment  which  is  the 
termination  of  all  others,  and  which  virtually  contains 
all  others  in  itself — that  is,  death.”  1  This  thought  of 
penal  endurance,  indeed,  is  not,  as  we  have  seen,  a  new 
one.  It  is  as  old,  in  fact,  as  the  doctrine  of  Atonement 
itself ;  is  found  in  Athanasius,  in  Augustine,2  in  many 
others ;  and  though  it  had  no  place  in  the  theory  of 
Anselm,  which  went  on  the  other  line  of  a  meritorious 
endurance  of  undeserved  sufferings,  it  underwent  a  con¬ 
siderable  revival  after  Anselm’s  day — is  found,  e.g.,  in 
the  Lombard,  and  in  Pope  Innocent  III.,3  from  whom 
it  probably  passed  to  Aquinas.  In  all  these  writers, 
however,  it  still  holds  a  loose  and  insecure  place — is 
not  grounded,  as  Anselm’s  theory  had  been,  in  clearly- 
defined  principles.  Aquinas,  like  the  others,  does  full 
justice  to  Christ’s  love  and  will  of  obedience,  not  less 
than  to  the  dignity  of  His  Person,  as  that  which  gave 
value  to  His  sacrifice  ;  and  is  as  emphatic  as  his  pre¬ 
decessors  in  declaring  that  it  was  not  the  atonement 
of  Christ  which  was  the  cause  of  God’s  love  to  men, 
but  the  amazing  love  of  God  which  is  displayed  in 
providing  the  atonement.4 

III.  The  scholastic  period  did  much  for  the  advance¬ 
ment  of  the  doctrine  of  atonement,  but  it  is  in  connec¬ 
tion  with  the  great  religious  upheaval  of  the  Reformation 
that  we  find  the  doctrine  assuming  the  more  com¬ 
plete  form  in  which  it  entered  the  great  Protestant 
creeds.  The  Reformation  was  not,  indeed,  im- 

1  Cf.  Neander,  viii.  pp.  213-214;  Ritschl,  i.  pp.  4,  49,  197. 

2  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  p.  197.  3  Cf.  Neander,  viii.  p.  213. 

4  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  pp.  43,  44,  45.  On  Anselm’s  proof  of  the  con¬ 
sistency  see  Cur  Dens  Homo ,  ii.  5. 


234 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


mediately  concerned  with  the  doctrine  of  atonement. 
The  absorbing  question  which  occupied  men’s  minds 
in  that  crisis  was  rather  the  question  of  the  sinner’s 
justification  before  God.1  What  men  sought  above 
all  was  the  grounding  of  the  certainty  of  their  peace 
with  God  through  His  free  and  gracious  pardon  of 
their  sins,  and  acceptance  of  their  persons.  But  this 
intensely  personal  interest  could  not  but  react  with 
transforming  influence  on  the  doctrine  of  Christ’s 
work,  as  that  which  laid  the  foundation  of  the  sinner’s 
peace.  The  clearer  light  which  had  been  shed  on  the 
way  of  salvation  by  the  doctrine  of  justification  helped 
to  set  the  atonement  also  in  its  right  place  in  the 
Christian  system.  For  the  consciousness  of  justifica¬ 
tion,  as  the  Reformers  understood  it,  is  more  than 
the  mere  assurance  that  God  has  forgiven  our  sins, 
and  received  us  into  His  fellowship.  It  is  the  assur¬ 
ance  that  this  forgiveness  and  acceptance  of  God  takes 
place  upon  a  righteous  basis — that  I  am  truly  set  right 
by  God  in  presence  of  His  own  law,  so  that  there  is  now 
no  more  condemnation,  or  possibility  of  it,  no  charge 
which  the  law  itself  can  bring  against  me,  of  which  it 
can  be  said,  “  This  claim  has  not  been  satisfied.” 2 
Only  thus  can  we  have  a  peace  fundamentally 
secured.  Dorner  excellently  puts  this  point  in  the 
following  passage: — “Justification  is  the  disburdening 
of  the  personality  from  guilt  at  the  tribunal  of  God’s 
primitive  justice,  and  therefore  from  punishment ;  but 
this  in  such  a  way  that  the  believer  has  the  conscious¬ 
ness  that  divine  justice  itself  has  been  satisfied  by 
Christ ;  that  no  exception  has  been  made  at  the  cost 
of  justice  ;  that  his  is  not  simply  the  experience  of 
divine  long-suffering,  including  neither  definitive  for¬ 
giveness,  nor  satisfaction  made  to  justice.  On  the 
1  See  next  Lecture.  2  Cf.  Rom.  viii.  i,  33,  34. 


A  TONEMENT  AND  MODAL  LA  IV 


235 


contrary,  the  believer  knows  that,  despite  His  own 
unrighteousness,  harmony  with  the  law  and  with 
justice  has  been  restored  by  Christ.  In  this  know¬ 
ledge  is  rooted  his  peace  of  conscience,  his  elevation 
above  those  doubts  which  conscience  would  always 
suggest,  in  case  forgiveness  came  to  the  sinner  in 
the  way,  so  to  speak,  of  a  partial  act  of  exception, 
through  a  breach  with  justice,  and  violation  of  the 
eternal  law.  But  by  this  means,  since  it  is  only  faith 
in  Christ  which  knows  itself  justified,  Christ’s  acts  and 
sufferings  enter  into  direct  relation  with  the  penal  law, 
and  with  our  guilt  which  has  to  be  blotted  out,  Christ 
being  thus  the  Atoner,  to  whom  the  consciousness  of 
justification  attaches  itself.”  1  These  at  least  were  the 
convictions  which  inspired  and  sustained  the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  justification  in  the  Reformation  struggle  ;  and 
the  corresponding  test  applied  to  a  doctrine  of  atone¬ 
ment  was  its  adequacy  to  support  these  convictions. 
This,  may  I  not  add,  must  be  the  test  of  a  satisfactory 
doctrine  of  atonement  still,  viz.,  its  power  to  sustain 
the  consciousness  of  peace  with  God  under  the  heaviest 
strain  which  can  be  put  upon  it  from  the  sense  of  guilt, 
and  of  the  condemnation  which  guilt  entails. 

There  was  another  cause  which  co-operated  with 
this  revived  sense  of  the  need  of  forgiveness  to  aid  the 
reconstruction  of  the  doctrine  of  atonement  at  the  Re¬ 
formation.  I  mentioned  above  how  the  notion  of  a 
sovereign  omnipotence  in  God  led  even  Aquinas  to 
entertain  the  view  that  an  expiatory  satisfaction  for 
sin  might,  had  God  so  chosen,  have  been  dispensed 
with.  But  the  extremes  into  which  this  doctrine  was 
driven  by  Duns  Scotus  and  his  school,  with  whom 
everything— -morality  included — was  made  to  depend 

1  Syst.  of  Doct.  iv.  pp.  22,  23  (E.T.). 


236 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


on  the  arbitrary  will  of  God,  produced  a  reaction,  and 
led  to  the  long  conflicts  between  Thomists  and  Scotists 
turning  on  this  very  point — whether  moral  distinctions 
had  their  ground  in  the  mere  will  of  God,  or  in  His 
nature ,  which  was  above  His  will.  Is  a  thing  right 
because  God  wills  it,  or  does  God  will  it  because  it  is 
right  ?  Once  the  question  was  put  in  this  way,  it  was 
easy  to  see  where  the  genuine  religious  interest  lay,  and 
the  Reformers  all  take  their  stand,  as  Anselm  had  im¬ 
plicitly  done  before  them,  on  the  immutable  character 
of  the  divine  righteousness,  and  on  the  idea  of  the 
moral  law  as  grounded,  not  in  the  mere  will  of  God, 
but  in  His  essential  nature.  The  commanding  will  of 
God,  in  other  words,  is  the  expression  of  His  essential 
holiness,  and  moral  law,  as  the  embodiment  of  the  re¬ 
quirements  of  that  holiness,  is  as  unchangeable  as  itself. 

In  contrast  with  the  scholastic  views,  accordingly, 
the  ground  of  the  Reformation  doctrine  of  atonement 
is,  as  Ritschl  correctly  says  in  his  extremely  suggestive 
chapter  on  that  subject,  the  conception  of  sin  as  “  a 
violation  of  the  order  of  public  law  that  is  upheld  by 
God’s  authority,  a  violation  of  the  law  that  is  correlate 
with  the  eternal  being  of  God  Himself.” 1  The  Re¬ 
formers  one  and  all — and  the  fact  is  the  more  note¬ 
worthy  when  it  is  remembered  that  Luther  and 
Zwingli  represent  independent  developments — in  the 
same  writer’s  words,  “  estimated  the  atoning  work  of 
Christ  by  reference  to  that  justice  of  God  which  finds 
its  expression  in  the  eternal  law.”  2  This  is  a  distinct 
advance  on  the  Mediaeval  doctrine.  It  lifts  the 
subject  out  of  that  sphere  of  private  rights,  the 
associations  of  which  still  clung  about  Anselm’s  for¬ 
mulations.  It  secures  a  basis  for  the  atonement, 

1  Justif  and  Recon.  i.  p.  197  (E.T.). 

2  Ibid.  p.  209  ;  cf.  pp.  197,  198,  200,  etc. 


PENAL  SATISFACTION 


2  37 


which  excludes  the  earlier  scholastic  ideas  of  the 
atonement  as  simply  the  “  most  suitable  ”  expedient 
of  the  divine  wisdom  ;  and  no  less  already  excludes 
in  principle  the  governmental,  Socinian,  and  purely 
moral-influence  theories  of  later  date.  It  accords  with 
this  that  in  Reformation  doctrine  full  stress  is  laid 
on  the  necessity  of  satisfaction  to  the  law  of  God  in 
its  penal ,  not  less  than  in  its  preceptive  aspects.1  This, 
no  doubt,  was  also  the  design  of  Anselm — to  show 
how  Christ  could  so  satisfy  justice  as  to  furnish  a 
righteous  ground  for  the  remission  of  sin’s  penalty  ;  but 
he  failed,  as  we  saw,  to  bring  the  sufferings  of  Christ 
into  any  direct  connection  with  that  punitive  will  of 
God,  of  which  death  and  the  other  outward  evils  to 
which  our  race  is  subject  are  the  expression.  The  Re¬ 
formers  saw  deeper,  and  did  not  shrink  from  saying,  in 
harmony  with  Scripture,  that  Christ,  as  our  Lord  and 
Representative,  bore  our  condemnation — entered  into 
the  full  meaning  of  the  judgment  of  God  against  our 
sins,  and  under  experience  of  its  uttermost  temporal , 
and  even  as  far  as  a  sinless  being  might,  of  its  spiritual 
woes,  the  pain  and  shame  of  our  human  sin,  the 
assaults  and  temptations  of  Satan,  the  hiding  of  His 
Father’s  countenance — did  honour  to  the  righteous¬ 
ness  implied  in  this  connection  of  sin  with  suffering 
and  death.  Thus  He  endured  the  sharpness  of  death, 
and,  having  abolished  its  curse,  opened  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  to  all  believers.  The  Reformers  were  at  one 
in  this  view  of  the  expiatory  character  of  the  death  of 
Christ,  as  rendering  satisfaction  to  the  majesty  of  the 
law  of  God,  violated  by  sin  ; 2  and  in  all  the  great 
Protestant  creeds,  accordingly,  is  enshrined  in  some 

1  Justif.  and  Recon.  pp.  197,  198.  Ritschl  finds  an  anticipation  in 
John  Gerson  (p.  198). 

2  Cf.,  e.g.,  Luther  on  Gal.  iii.  13. 


238 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


form  of  words  the  testimony — “  He  satisfied  the  divine 
justice.” 

While  the  Reformers  held  the  view  of  Christ’s 
sufferings  and  death  as  a  satisfaction  rendered  to 
divine  justice,  it  is  proper  now  to  notice  that  this  by 
no  means  exhausted  their  conception  of  the  redeeming 
work  of  Christ.  Luther  in  particular  is  rich  in  the 
aspects  in  which  he  delights  to  extol  the  Cross  of 
Christ,  viewing  it,  as  he  always  does,  in  connection 
with  the  life  that  preceded  it,  and  the  resurrection  that 
followed.  He  revels  in  the  thought  of  how  Christ  by 
His  passion  and  death  conquers  sin,  the  law,  the  devil, 
death,  and  hell ;  and  he  and  his  fellow-Reformers  care¬ 
fully  guard  themselves  against  the  idea  that  God’s 
original  attitude  to  men  was  one  of  wrath,  and  that 
the  Cross  has  changed  this  attitude  into  love.1  With 
them,  as  with  Augustine,  and  the  greater  schoolmen, 
love  is  the  spring  of  the  whole  redeeming  counsel,  and 
the  grace  of  God  in  salvation  is  safeguarded  by  the  fact 
that  it  is  God  Himself  who  provides  the  means  of 
reconciliation.  Nor,  again,  at  the  risk  of  repetition  I 
venture  to  point  out,  is  there  one  of  the  Reformers 
who  views  the  worth,  or  satisfactory  virtue,  of  Christ’s 
sufferings  as  depending  solely  on  the  pain  that  was 
endured  ;  but  emphasis  is  laid  invariably  on  the  volun¬ 
tariness  of  the  sacrifice,  on  the  love  of  Christ,  and  on 
His  will  of  obedience,  as  the  qualities  which  gave  value 
to  His  sufferings.2  It  is  the  doing  of  Christ  along  with, 
and  even  more  than,  His  suffering,  which  appears,  as 
Ritschl  has  pointed  out,  “  as  having  laid  the  foundation 
of  the  reconciliation  He  effected  between  God  and 
man.”  3  What  came  to  be  spoken  of  afterwards  as  the 

1  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  pp.  201,  202,  etc. 

2  Ibid.  pp.  210,  213,  etc.  Cf.  Calvin,  Instit.  ii.  1 6.  5. 

3  Ibid.  p.  209. 


“ FORENSIC ”  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT 


239 


“  active  obedience  ”  appears  from  the  first,  along  with  the 
“passive,”  as  an  element  in  the  satisfaction  of  Christ;  and 
though  a  distinction  which  tends  to  over-refinement  soon 
begins  to  be  drawn  between  the  “  passive  obedience  ”  as 
that  which  atones  for  guilt,  and  the  “  active  obedience  ” 
as  that  which  grounds  for  the  believer  his  title  to  eternal 
life,  the  fact  that  both  are  described  as  “  obedience  ” 
shows  that  the  will  is  conceived  of  as  present  in  each.1 

It  is,  nevertheless,  not  to  be  disputed  that,  while  the 
Reformation  doctrine  of  atonement  is  not  exhausted 
by,  it  involves  what  is  sometimes  called  the  “  forensic  ” 
element ;  and  this,  it  is  frequently  declared,  modern 
thought  must  reject.  If,  however,  by  “  forensic  ”  is 
meant  the  treatment  of  man  as  subject  of  moral  law — 
such  law  as  conscience  reveals,  and  God’s  character  as 
Moral  Ruler  and  Judge  of  the  world  involves — it  is  yet 
to  be  shown  that  this  is  not  part  of  a  true  and  scriptural 
conception  of  the  relations  of  God  and  man  ;  or  that 
any  doctrine  which  wholly  omits  it  is  not  thereby  con¬ 
demned  as  inadequate  for  the  needs  of  man  as  sinner. 
God’s  love,  and  even  Fatherhood,  do  not  divest  Him  of 
those  fundamental  attributes  which  constitute  Him  the 
Upholder  and  Vindicator  of  moral  law  in  the  universe  ; 
and  if  redemption  reveals  an  infinite  and  all-com¬ 
passionating  love  for  the  world,  it  does  not  detract  from 
this  love  that  it  manifests  itself  toward  sinners  in 
“  reigning  through  righteousness  ”  unto  life,2  not  in 
annulling  righteousness. 

1  The  true  thought  involved  in  this  distinction  is  that  the  work  of 
Christ  does  not  merely  atone  for  the  past,  but  grounds  also  a  new  and 
blessed  relation  to  the  believer  in  which  the  inheritance  of  everlasting  life 
is  included.  The  distinction  is  not  emphasised  by  Calvin,  who  views  justi¬ 
fication  predominatingly  as  the  blotting  out  of  guilt  and  non-imputation  of 
sin,  while  recognising,  of  course,  that  all  positive  blessing  is  the  gratuitous 
gift  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ.  Cf.  Instit.  iii.  11.  21,  22  ;  18.  2,  5,  etc. 

2  Rom.  v.  21.  Cf.  further  in  last  Lecture. 


' 


VIII 


The  Doctrine  of  the  Application  of  Redemption 
Justification  by  Faith  ;  Regeneration,  etc.-— 
Protestantism  and  Roman  Catholicism 
(Sixteenth  Century) 


r 


“  So  far  from  being  able  to  answer  for  my  sins,  I  cannot  answer  even  for 
my  righteousness.” — Bernard. 

‘  ‘  At  the  beginning  of  our  preaching,  the  doctrine  of  faith  had  a  most 
happy  course,  and  down  fell  the  Pope’s  pardons,  purgatory,  vows,  masses, 
and  such  like  abominations,  which  drew  with  them  the  ruin  of  all  Popery. 

.  .  .  And  if  all  had  continued,  as  they  began,  to  teach  and  diligently  urge 
the  article  of  justification — that  is  to  say,  that  we  are  justified  neither  by  the 
righteousness  of  the  law  nor  by  our  own  righteousness,  but  only  by  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ — doubtless  this  one  article,  by  little  and  little,  had  overthrown 
the  whole  Papacy.” — Luther. 

“That  doctrine  (of  justification)  is  now  to  be  more  fully  discussed,  and 
discussed  in  such  wise  that  we  may  not  forget  that  it  is  the  principal  hinge  on 
which  religion  must  be  supported  :  on  which  account  we  should  bring  to  it 
the  greater  attention  and  care.” — Calvin. 


LECTURE  VIII 


The  Doctrine  of  the  Application  of  Redemption  ;  Justification 
by  Faith  ;  Regeneration,  etc.  —  Protestantism  and  Roman 
Catholicism  (Sixteenth  Century). 

If  I  have  succeeded  in  carrying  conviction  with  me 
thus  far  in  the  explication  I  have  given  of  the  course 
of  the  development  of  dogma,  there  should  be  little 
difficulty  in  gaining  assent  to  the  next  step  I  have  to 
take — that,  viz.,  which  identifies  the  period  of  the 
Reformation  with  the  group  of  doctrines  connected 
with  the  Application  of  Redemption,  or  as  it  is  some¬ 
times  termed,  Subjective  Soteriology.  It  will  hardly 
be  disputed  by  any  that  it  was  this  group  of  doctrines, 
and  specially  the  great  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith 
— articulus  stantis  aut  cadentis  ecclesioz ,  as  Luther  called 
it — which  supremely  occupied  the  minds  of  men  in  the 
momentous  religious  crisis  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
Every  doctrine,  I  have  urged,  has  its  “  hour  ” — the 
period  when  it  emerges  into  individual  prominence,  and 
becomes  the  subject  of  exhaustive  discussion  ;  and  the 
crisis  of  the  Reformation  unmistakably  brought  this 
hour  for  the  doctrine  now  named.  Positively,  the  way 
was  prepared  for  it  by  the  previous  developments  of 
the  doctrines  of  sin  and  atonement ;  negatively,  it  was 
prepared  by  the  crushing  burden  of  legalism  in  the 
Romish  Church,  which  in  earnest  minds  developed  a 
despair  of  salvation  by  work-righteousness  similar  to 


244 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


that  wrought  in  Paul  by  his  experience  of  the  Jewish 
law,  and  drove  them  back,  as  it  did  him,  on  the  free 
grace  of  the  Gospel  as  an  absolute  necessity,  only  to 
discover  that  the  grace  they  sought  had  been  con¬ 
fronting  them  all  the  while  on  the  Gospel  page,  though 
their  eyes  were  holden  that  they  could  not  see  it. 

Thus  again  is  evinced  in  the  most  striking  manner 
the  harmony  of  the  logical  and  the  historical  schemes.1 
It  was  not  by  accident  that  at  various  centres — for  it 
should  never  be  forgotten  that  the  Reformation  had  not 
one,  but  several  independent  centres  2 — the  minds  of 
men  awoke,  as  it  were  simultaneously,  to  the  clear 
apprehension  of  this  great  doctrine  of  justification,  so 
long  obscured  in  the  official  teaching  of  the  Church  ; 
or  that,  amidst  minor  differences,  so  remarkable  a 
harmony  should  have  prevailed  among  the  Reformers 
and  the  Churches  which  they  founded  regarding  it. 
Then,  although,  as  we  shall  discover,  in  its  essence 
nothing  new,  it  broke  on  men’s  minds  with  the  force  of 
a  revelation  ;  wrought,  too,  on  the  old  corrupt  Church 
with  the  force  of  a  revolution.  That  this  doctrine  was 
the  real  citadel  round  which  the  battle  of  the  Reforma¬ 
tion  was  fought,  and  had  in  it  the  power  to  revolutionise 
the  whole  theological  as  well  as  ecclesiastical  scheme 
of  the  Papacy,  is  evident  from  nothing  so  much  as  its 
treatment  by  the  Church  of  Rome  itself.  When  the 
Papal  Council  met  at  Trent,  it  was  understood  by 
everyone  that  the  doctrine  of  justification  was  the  chief 
matter  to  be  debated.  The  subject  was  confessedly  a 
perplexing  one  ;  as  one  of  the  presiding  legates  naively 
put  it,  it  was  a  new  one  to  the  Fathers,  and  had  never 
been  strictly  considered  by  any  previous  Council  of  the 

1  Cf.  Ritschl,  Jttstif  and  Recon.  i.  pp.  94,  123,  124  (E.T. ). 

-  In  France,  Switzerland,  Germany.  See  below,  p.  256. 


COUNCIL  OF  TRENT  ON  JUSTIFICATION  245 


Church.1  But  interest  specially  attaches  to  the  terms 
in  which  this  important  doctrine  was  submitted  to  the 
Council.  It  was  described  as  the  matter  on  which  all 
the  errors  of  Luther  were  founded.  Then  the  state¬ 
ment  went  on — “  That  said  author,  having  commenced 
with  attacking  indulgences ,  seeing  that  he  could  not 
accomplish  his  object  without  destroying  those  works  of 
penance ,  the  default  of  which  indulgences  supply, 
had  not  found  a  better  means  than  the  unheard-of 
doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone.  .  .  .  That,  as  a 
consequence,  he  had  denied  the  efficacy  of  the  sacra¬ 
ments,  the  authority  of  priests,  purgatory,  the  sacrifice 
of  the  mass,  and  all  other  remedies  instituted  for  the 
pardon  of  sin — and  that  by  opposing  argument  it  was 
necessary  for  the  establishing  of  the  body  of  Catholic 
doctrine  to  destroy  this  heresy  of  justification  by  faith 
alone ,  and  to  condemn  the  blasphemies  of  the  enemy  of 
good  works.”  2  This,  of  course,  is  not  quite  the  history 
of  the  Lutheran  movement ;  but  the  statement  is  un¬ 
doubtedly  correct  in  the  point  most  essential,  viz.,  in  its 
perception  of  the  fact  that  the  admission  of  this 
doctrine  means  logically  the  overthrow  of  Rome’s 
whole  doctrinal  and  sacramental  system. 

It  is  precisely  here,  however,  that,  in  the  light  of 
my  contention  in  these  lectures,  a  difficulty  may  be 
felt  to  arise.  I  have  endeavoured  to  show  that  one  of 
the  tests  of  a  genuine  doctrinal  development  is  its  con¬ 
tinuity  with  the  past,  its  organic  connection  with  what 

1  Sarpi,  Bk.  ii.  75.  Cf.  Cunningham,  Historical  Theology ,  i.  p.  481  ; 
Buchanan,  Justification,  p.  139. 

2  Sarpi,  Bk.  ii.  73.  It  should  be  stated  that  there  were  many  shades 
of  opinion  in  the  Council  itself  on  the  subject,  some  of  them  approaching 
very  nearly  the  Protestant  doctrine.  The  original  draft  of  the  article  on 
justification  was  so  Protestant  that  it  was  indignantly  repudiated  by  the 
majority  of  the  members. 


246 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


has  gone  before.  But  it  has  just  been  admitted  that 
the  Protestant  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  pre¬ 
sented  itself  as  a  revolt  against  the  past,  a  rupture  with 
the  doctrinal  development  on  this  head  so  far  as  it 
had  yet  proceeded,  a  condemnation  of  that  develop¬ 
ment  ;  and,  as  a  consequence,  the  throwing  off  of  a 
mountain  load  of  errors  and  practices  that  had  resulted 
from  it,  to  the  grievous  injury  of  men’s  consciences. 
This  was,  in  fact,  the  very  charge  brought  by  the  Roman 
Church  against  the  doctrine,  by  which  it  sought 
to  discredit  it,  that  it  was  novel,  unauthorised,  and 
schismatic.  It  is,  of  course,  open  to  the  Protestant  to 
reply  that  he  goes  back  to  a  yet  more  primitive  source 
— the  Apostolic  doctrine  in  Scripture — and  this  is  true. 
But  it  does  not  quite  turn  the  point  of  the  objection  as 
respects  the  law  of  the  progress  of  dogma.  A  more 
pertinent  answer  would  be  that  no  law  of  history  can 
exclude  the  possibility  of  false  and  perverted  develop¬ 
ments  in  doctrine  and  institutions,  such  as  we  know, 
in  fact,  to  have  often  taken  place  in  the  history  of 
the  Church.  As  for  ages  men  believed  in  astrology, 
and  till  the  days  of  Galileo  and  Copernicus  accepted 
unchallenged  the  Ptolemaic  theory  of  the  heavens, 
without  the  progress  of  astronomical  science  being 
discredited  thereby  ;  so  there  is  nothing  to  preclude 
the  supposition  that,  misled  by  the  admission  of  a 
false  principle,  theology  may  enter  on  a  wrong  line  of 
development,  and  rear  up  a  structure  of  wood  and  hay 
and  stubble  on  the  Christian  foundation,  which,  when 
the  hour  of  judgment  arrives,  it  must  bear  the  pain  of 
seeing  consumed.  We  have,  however,  happily,  a  far 
more  complete  answer  to  offer.  Widely  as  the  Church 
may  have  gone  astray,  theoretically  and  practically,  in 
its  apprehension  of  this  doctrine,  it  is  not  the  case 
that  the  Reformation  was  in  any  real  sense  a  rupture 


RE  LA  T ION  OF  REFORMERS  TO  THE  PAST  247 


with  the  past.  On  the  contrary,  it  stood  in  direct  con¬ 
tinuity  with  what  was  deepest,  most  vital,  most  char¬ 
acteristic  in  the  piety  of  the  past,  and  was  its  legitimate 
outcome  and  vindication.  This,  as  we  shall  see,  was 
the  position  assumed  by  the  Reformers  themselves. 
In  preaching  this  doctrine,  not  one  of  them  would  have 
allowed  that  he  had  broken  with  the  religious  tra¬ 
dition  of  the  past.  Each  claimed  to  be  standing,  even 
doctrinally,  in  line  with  the  best  and  purest  part  of 
that  tradition.  Nor  could  there,  in  truth,  be  a  breach, 
in  the  proper  sense,  with  previous  authoritative  formu¬ 
lations  of  this  doctrine  ;  for  the  point  of  my  contention 
is  (as  the  Fathers  at  Trent  also  admitted),  that  not 
till  now  had  the  doctrine  emerged  into  independent 
importance,  or  been  accurately  considered.  It  was 
only  now  its  “  epoch  ”  had  arrived  ;  only  now  the 
conditions  were  present  which  admitted  of  its  satis¬ 
factory  investigation  and  formulation.  I  shall  best 
illustrate  these  statements  by  looking,  as  before,  at 
the  earlier  development  of  the  doctrine  on  its  sides 
both  of  error  and  of  truth  ;  then  at  the  contrast  between 
the  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic  (Tridentine) 
doctrines  at  the  Reformation  ;  after  which  a  glance 
may  be  taken  at  the  subsequent  sixteenth  century 
discussions. 

I.  There  is  no  question,  then,  from  the  Protestant, 
and  I  believe  also  from  the  Scriptural  standpoint,  but 
that  the  Church,  from  a  very  early  period,  went  seriously 
astray  in  its  doctrinal  and  practical  apprehension  of 
the  divine  method  of  the  sinner’s  salvation.  Many 
beautiful  utterances,  I  know,  can  be  cited  to  show  that 
the  thought  of  acceptance  through  God’s  grace,  on  the 
ground  of  Christ’s  merit  alone,  was  never  absent 
from  the  consciousness  of  the  Church — nay,  was  its 


248 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


deepest  note  all  through.1  But  these  cannot  overbear 
the  fact  that  ideas  early  crept  in,  and  came  to  have 
controlling  influence,  which  were  in  principle  antagonistic 
to  that  consciousness.  Partly,  no  doubt,  this  was  due 
to  the  inevitable  blunting  of  Pauline  ideas  in  their 
passing  over  to  the  Gentile  world,  imperfectly  prepared, 
through  lack  of  a  training  under  the  law,  to  receive 
them  ;  partly,  also,  is  attributable  to  the  fact  already 
noticed,  that,  in  order  of  time,  the  doctrines  of  sin, 
grace,  and  atonement,  which  are  the  presuppositions  of 
this  doctrine  of  justification,  had  not  yet  been  theo¬ 
logically  investigated.  But  the  main  source  of  error 
must  unquestionably  be  sought  in  the  early  introduction 
into  the  Church  of,  and  the  place  given  to,  the  sacra- 
mentarian  principle,  which,  wherever  it  enters,  is  bound 
to  exercise  a  disturbing  influence  on  doctrine.  The 
chief  stages  in  the  development  of  this  principle  in  its 
bearing  on  our  subject  are  logically,  and  to  a  large 
extent  also  historically,  the  following.  First  came  the 
connection  of  regeneration  and  forgiveness  of  sins  with 
baptism  —  the  doctrine  of  baptismal  regeneration.  In 
train  of  this,  as  its  natural  consequence,  came  the  use 
of  the  term  “  justification  ”  to  cover  the  entire  change 
supposed  to  be  effected  in  baptism — both  the  divine 
forgiveness  and  the  divine  renewal  ;  in  other  words, 
the  taking  of  justification  to  mean,  not,  as  in  Pauline 
usage,2  the  absolving  of  a  sinner  from  guilt,  and  declaring 
him  to  be  righteous  in  God’s  sight,  on  the  ground  of 
what  Christ  has  done  for  him,  but  peculiarly  the  making 
of  the  sinner  righteous  by  the  infusing  into  him  a 
new  nature,  then,  on  the  ground  of  this  justitia  infusa 

1  An  interesting  catena  of  these  may  be  seen  in  Buchanan’s  Doctrine 
of  Justification  (Cunningham  Lectures),  iii.  93  ff.  See  also  Sanday  and 
Headlam’s  note  on  the  history  of  the  Pauline  doctrine  in  their  Romans , 
pp.  147  ff. 

2  See  below,  p.  259. 


I  NFL  UENCE  OF  SA  CRA  ME  NT  A  RIA  N  PRINCIPLE  249 


declaring  him  righteous.1  We  have  next  the  still 
more  serious  restriction  of  this  benefit  to  the  cleansing 
away  of  sins  committed  befoi'e  baptism,  so  that  post- 
baptismal  sins,  as  not  covered  by  the  initial  justifica¬ 
tion,  had  to  be  expiated  in  some  other  way,  by  good 
works  and  satisfactions  of  the  sinner’s  own.  On  the 
ground  thus  laid  was  built  in  due  course  the  whole 
elaborate  system  of  penance  in  the  Romish  Church  to 
which  reference  falls  to  be  made  later — its  scheme 
of  confession,  of  priestly  absolution,  of  meritorious 
satisfactions,  of  purgatorial  suffering  for  sins  not  com¬ 
pletely  satisfied  for  on  earth,  of  masses  and  indulgences 
as  a  means  of  relief  from  these  pains  of  the  life  beyond. 
A  main  support  of  this  sacerdotal  system  was  its 
doctrine  of  merits — such  ideas,  eg.,  as  that  good  works 
must  be  added  to  the  initial  justification  to  give  a  title 
to  eternal  life  ;  that  good  works  have  an  inherent  merit 
— a  merit  of  “  condignity,”  as  the  schoolmen  phrased 
it — giving  a  claim  in  strict  justice  to  eternal  reward  ; 
that  it  is  possible  to  go  beyond  duty  in  works  of 
supererogation,  the  merit  of  which,  as  not  needed  for 
one’s  self,  can  be  applied  in  indulgences  to  make  up 
for  the  deficiencies  of  others,  to  relieve  them  from 
purgatory,  etc.  So  buried  is  the  true  doctrine  of 
God’s  grace  beneath  this  superstructure  of  error  that 
hardly  a  vestige  of  it  seems  left,  and  the  difficulty  I 
proposed  above  returns,  How  can  a  doctrine  like  that 
of  the  Reformers,  which  is  the  repudiation,  root  and 
branch,  of  this  whole  system  of  superstition,  be  supposed 
to  be,  in  any  sense  whatever,  in  continuity  with  it? 

It  is  not  enough,  in  answer  to  this  question,  to  show, 

1  In  Catholic  doctrine  remission  tends  to  be  treated  only  as  a  negative 
condition  of  justification — the  true  justification  being  the  making  righteous 
by  infusion  of  grace.  The  justitia  infusa  is,  in  scholastic  language,  the 
formal  cause  of  our  justification — that  on  account  of  which  God  declares 
us  righteous.  See  below,  p.  265. 


250 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


what  no  doubt  is  historically  true,  that  there  never 
was  wanting,  within  the  Catholic  Church  itself,  a 
minority,  sometimes  breaking  off  into  protesting  sects, 
which  saw  more  clearly  than  others  the  unavailingness 
of  this  official  apparatus  of  salvation,  and  sought,  with 
more  or  less  success,  to  go  back  to  Scriptural  founda¬ 
tions.  All  honour  to  this  chain  of  evangelical  witnesses, 
extending  down  the  whole  course  of  the  Church’s  history, 
who  laboured  to  keep  the  lamp  of  truth  alive  when 
those  who  should  have  tended  it  were  unfaithful  !  The 
reproach  of  heresy  attached  to  them  in  their  own  day 
is  now  their  glory.  But  the  continuity  of  doctrine  we 
desire  to  establish  must  carry  us  much  farther  than 
this.  We  gain  a  key  in  part  to  the  solution  of  our 
problem  when  we  observe,  in  the  first  place,  how,  even 
in  the  official  teaching  of  the  Church,  there  was  never 
a  denial  of  the  fact  that  the  ultimate  ground  of  all 
forgiveness,  grace,  merit,  acceptance,  was  the  Cross  and 
propitiatory  work  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Whatever 
might  come  after,  the  first  reception  of  the  sinner  into 
favour  by  the  forgiveness  of  sins  and  bestowal  of 
righteousness  was  an  act  purely  of  grace.  No  doubt 
in  the  scholastic  age  even  this  was  vitiated  by  the 
introduction  of  the  idea  of  a  “  merit  of  congruity  ” 
attached  to  the  acts  of  repentance,  faith,  hope,  love,  etc., 
by  which  the  sinner  was  supposed  to  fit  himself  for  the 
reception  of  grace  in  baptism.1  But  this  may  be  dis¬ 
counted  in  view  of  the  more  serious  element  in  the 
piety  of  the  Church, — we  meet  with  nothing  of  it,  eg., 
in  Bernard,  in  a  Kempis,  or  Tauler,  or  the  Theologia 
Germanica , — and  also  of  the  fact  that  even  the  “  pre- 
venient  ”  grace  which  renders  such  acts  possible  is 
traced  to  the  merit  of  Jesus  Christ.  Even  as  regards 
the  so-called  “  merits  ”  of  the  believer,  and  still  more  his 

1  See  below,  p.  263. 


“  RELIGIO  US  [SELF-ES  TIMA  TE  ”  OF  BELIE  VERS  2  5 1 


expiations  and  satisfactions,  there  was  always  the  recogni¬ 
tion  in  the  deeper  spirits  that  it  was  the  grace  of  God 
which  was  the  source  of  these  merits,  and  that  they  would 
have  no  meritorious  character  at  all  but  for  the  covering 
of  their  imperfections  by  the  merits  of  the  Redeemer.  It 
was  formerly  shown  that  this  was  the  view  of  Augustine,1 
whose  thought  ruled  so  powerfully  in  Middle  Age  theo¬ 
logy  ;  it  was  also  the  doctrine  of  Anselm,  of  Bernard,  of 
Aquinas,  in  short,  of  spiritual  minds  everywhere. 

See  now  how  this  bears  on  the  subject  before  us. 
What  we  have  to  fix  attention  on  here  is  less  the  official 
theology  of  the  Church,  than  what  Ritschl  aptly  calls 
“  the  religious  self-estimate  ” 2  of  the  godly  men  whose 
intellect  still  worked  in  the  forms  of  that  theology. 
That  “  religious  self-estimate  ”  had  always  one  decisive 
mark — the  consciousness,  namely,  of  having  received 
everything  from  grace,  and  of  continued  dependence  on 
grace.  It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  quotations  from 
the  great  writers  of  the  Church  from  Augustine  down¬ 
wards  to  illustrate  this  temper,  but  it  is  scarcely 
necessary.  Bernard  is  a  typical  example.  The  whole 
strain  of  Bernard’s  sermons  is,  as  Ritschl  says,  to  lead 
his  hearers  “  to  disregard  their  own  contribution  to  their 
merits,  and  to  take  into  account  only  the  operation  of 
God’s  grace  in  them  ;  or,  generally,  to  direct  their 
attention  from  these  particular  works  to  God  as  the 
Founder  of  every  hope  of  salvation.  Paradoxically  he 
says  that  the  humility  which  renounces  all  claim  to 
merit,  and  trusts  in  God  alone,  is  the  only  true  merit.”  3 
How  entirely  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  century 
mystics  rejected  all  righteousness  of  works  and  fell  back 

1  Lecture  V.  p.  151. 

2  i.  pp.  94,  in,  1 1 5,  133,  137,  etc.  (E.J.). 

3  Ritschl,  i.  p.  98  ;  cf.  Calvin,  Instit.  iii.  12.  3.  Formally  Bernard 
maintains  the  ordinary  Catholic  standpoint. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


252 

on  God’s  free  grace  need  not  be  insisted  on.1  There 
were,  in  fact,  two  poles  or  tendencies  between  which  the 
Catholic  doctrine  and  Catholic  consciousness  were  con¬ 
tinually  oscillating.  If  the  external,  legalistic,  self¬ 
saving  side  of  the  doctrine  was  fastened  on, — as  it  would 
be  by  the  worldly,  the  corrupt,  the  self-righteous, — the 
grace  of  the  Gospel  disappeared  in  a  vast  ecclesiastical 
mechanism  of  salvation  by  works.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  with  the  feeling  of  the  insufficiency  of  their  own 
works,  men  went  back,  as  the  saintly  souls  were  always 
doing,  to  the  fountain-head  of  all  mercy  in  the  grace  of 
God  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  sought  their  ultimate  comfort 
and  satisfaction  there,  then,  whatever  the  type  of  their 
theology,  they  were  really  affirming  the  Protestant 
doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  One  striking  example 
will  suffice  to  illustrate  what  I  mean.  The  Roman 
Church  in  the  age  of  the  Reformation  had  no  more 
redoubtable  or  uncompromising  champion  than  Bellar- 
mine.  In  him  we  have  the  strongest  opponent  of  the 
Reformation  doctrine  of  justification,  and  the  unqualified 
defender  of  the  counter-dogma  of  the  meriting  of 
eternal  life  by  good  works.  But  what  is  Bellarmine’s 
own  last  word  in  the  discussion  ?  It  really  amounts, 
as  Dr.  William  Cunningham  has  said,  to  a  virtual 
repudiation  of  the  whole  five  books  he  had  written  in 
defence  of  the  Catholic  contention.2  Bellarmine’s 
words  are  8 — “  On  account  of  the  uncertainty  of  one’s 

1  Luther  writes  of  Tauler  to  Spalatin — “  If  it  will  gratify  you  to  become 
acquainted  with  a  solid  theology  in  the  German  tongue,  perfectly  resembling 
that  of  the  ancients,  procure  for  yourself  John  Tauler’s  Sermons,  for 
neither  in  Latin  nor  in  our  own  language  have  I  seen  a  theology  more 
sound,  or  more  in  accordance  with  the  Gospel  ”  (in  Ullmann’s  Reformers 
before  the  Reformation,  ii.  p.  212).  Melanchthon:  shared  this  view.  Cf. 
Ritschl,  who  points  out  the  differences  (i.  pp.  104  ff. ). 

2  Historical  Theology ,  ii.  109. 

3  De  Instit.  v.  7.  Cf.  Martensen’s  Dogmatics ,  p.  394  (E.T.),  for  the 
dying  words  of  Pope  Pius  VII.  “What!”  he  exclaimed,  “ Most  Holy 
Father l  I  am  a  poor  sinner.” 


THE  REFORMA  T10N  AND  CHURCH  PIETY  253 


own  righteousness,  and  the  danger  of  empty  boasting, 
it  is  safest  to  place  one's  whole  trust  in  the  mercy  of  God 
alone ,  and  in  His  goodness.”  Similarly  Luther  in  his 
Galatians  testifies  of  some  of  the  religious  orders  of  his 
day  :  “  Wherefore  they,  finding  in  themselves  no  good 
works  to  set  against  the  wrath  and  judgment  of  God, 
did  fly  to  the  death  and  passion  of  Christ,  and  were 
saved  in  their  simplicity.”  1 

We  can  now  perhaps  understand  how  it  was  that 
the  Reformers,  in  their  proclamation  of  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith,  could  uniformly  claim  to  stand  in 
unbroken  connection  with  the  Church  of  God  in  the 
past.  As  to  the  fact  that  they  did  so  there  can  be  no 
dispute.  Apart  from  express  utterances,  the  evidences 
are  patent  to  any  one  who  observes  how  freely  they 
appeal  in  their  works  to  the  great  Church  writers,  as 
Augustine  and  Bernard  ; 2  how  they  identify  themselves 
with  the  Church  consciousness  of  the  past,  as  repre¬ 
sented  in  its  devoutest  utterances  ;  how  they  claim  to 
be  of  one  faith  with  the  godly  of  their  own  generation. 
Ritschl  is  right  in  repudiating,  on  behalf  of  Luther,  the 
idea  that  “  in  the  thought  of  justification  by  faith  he 
propounded  something  that  up  to  his  time  had  been 
utterly  unheard  of.” 3  “  In  common  with  the  congre¬ 

gation  of  Christ’s  people,”  says  Luther,  “  I  hold  the 
one  common  doctrine  of  Christ,  who  alone  is  our 
Master.”  4  Yet  it  is  just  as  evident  that  there  existed 
a  contradiction  between  this  “  religious  self-estimate  ” 
of  saintly  men  and  the  formal  theology  of  the  Church  ; 
and  the  consciousness  of  this  became  only  the  more 

1  On  Gal.  ii.  16. 

2  This  is  specially  noticeable  in  Calvin.  Cf.  Inst  it.  iii.  12.  16,  etc. 

3  i.  p.  164.  It  is  one  of  the  merits  of  Ritschl’s  History  that  he  brings 
out  this  fact  so  prominently. 

4  Ibid.  Cf.  Luther’s  words  quoted  below,  p.  259. 


254 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


acute,  the  more  earnestly  men  yearned  for  deliverance 
from  the  yoke  of  bondage  which  the  Church,  in  its  cere¬ 
monies  and  penitential  exercises,  imposed  upon  them. 
It  is  further  plain  that  once  this  contradiction  came 
into  clear  consciousness,  it  could  only  be  resolved  in 
one  way.  The  true  continuity  did  not  lie  in  upholding 
the  defective  and  erroneous  forms  of  doctrine  against 
which  the  living  consciousness  of  the  Church  was  a 
protest.  It  obviously  lay  in  allying  itself  with  that 
“  religious  self-estimate”  which  had  regulated  true  piety 
all  through,  and  in  bringing  the  doctrinal  forms  of  the 
Church  into  harmony  with  it.  This,  accordingly,  is 
what  we  see  men  striving  to  do  in  the  prelusive  and 
imperfect  movements  which  preceded  the  Reformation 
proper — those,  eg.,  of  Wyckliffe,  Huss,  and  the  Mystics 
— which  we  mark  coming  to  expression  in  individuals 
like  Staupitz,  Luther’s  master,  who  yet  never  left  the 
communion  of  the  Roman  Church — which  at  length 
found  full-tongued  utterance  in  the  declarations  of  the 
Reformation.  It  was  in  its  essence  no  new  com¬ 
mandment  which  the  Reformers  taught,  but  an  old 
commandment  which  the  Church  had  from  the  be¬ 
ginning  ;  and  the  true  breach  of  continuity  would  have 
been  to  adhere,  as  the  Tridentine  Fathers  did,  to  the 
letter  of  Catholic  dogma  against  the  consciousness  of 
salvation  by  grace  alone,  with  which  that  dogma  stood 
Lin  contradiction. 

There  is,  however,  yet  another  line  of  preparation 
for  the  Reformation  doctrine,  on  which,  before  I  pass 
from  this  point,  a  word  ought  to  be  said.  To  none  of 
the  Fathers,  as  we  have  seen,  did  the  Reformers  more 
entirely  serve  themselves  heir  than  to  Augustine.  It 
was,  however,  a  weakness  in  Augustine,  as  we  also 
saw,  that,  while  investigating  so  exhaustively  the  doc- 


ATONEMENT  AND  JUSTIFICATION 


255 


trines  of  sin  and  grace,  he  left  the  doctrine  of  justifica¬ 
tion  by  faith  very  much  where  he  found  it.  He  failed, 
that  is,  to  distinguish  between  justification  as  an  act 
of  grace,  founding  the  sinner’s  new  relation  to  God  in 
pardon  and  acceptance,  and  the  accompanying  or  con¬ 
sequent  regeneration  or  sanctification  of  the  believer — 
the  making  of  him  righteous  by  infusion  of  grace. 
This  was  connected  with  the  fact  that  the  entire  side 
of  God’s  dealings  with  the  sinner  which  had  relation  to 
law  was  at  that  stage  imperfectly  understood  ;  and 
that,  in  particular,  the  nature  and  scope  of  Christ’s 
atoning  work  had  not  received  careful  attention.  I 
showed  in  last  lecture  how  the  Reformation  doctrine  of 
justification  reacted  to  bring  about  a  clearer  appre¬ 
hension  of  the  doctrine  of  atonement.  But  it  is  equally 
to  be  recognised  that  the  more  thorough  examination 
of  the  doctrine  of  Christ’s  work  initiated  by  Anselm 
could  not  be  without  its  profound  effect  on  the  Catholic 
mode  of  conceiving  of  justification.  The  clearer  it 
became  that  Christ  had  made  a  satisfaction  of  infinite 
value  to  God  for  the  sins  of  the  world,  the  more  palpable 
must  the  incongruity  appear  of  adding  to  this  the  puny 
satisfactions  of  men  as  any  part  of  the  ground  of 
salvation.  The  reasonings  of  Anselm,  in  truth,  de¬ 
stroyed  the  logical  basis  of  every  doctrine  of  human 
satisfaction  ;  and  each  stage  in  the  perfecting  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  atonement  brought  with  it  a  call  for  a 
new  adjustment  to  the  doctrine  of  justification.  Hitherto 
such  an  adjustment  had  scarcely  been  attempted.  In 
the  Summa  of  Aquinas  the  doctrine  of  justification  is 
actually  treated  prior  to  Christ’s  work,  and  out  of  all 
direct  connection  with  it.  In  Roman  theology  to  the 
present  hour  justification  is  hardly  exalted  to  the 
dignity  of  a  special  article,  but  is  merged  in  the  doctrine 
of  baptism,  of  which,  in  strictness,  it  forms  a  part.  Yet 


256 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


nothing  is  more  evident  than  that  the  doctrines  of  atone¬ 
ment  and  justification  stand  in  essential  relation,  and 
that  the  view  taken  of  Christ’s  work  must  in  the  end 
determine  the  shape  of  the  doctrine  of  justification. 
Here,  then,  was  another  task  which  the  Reformers  had 
to  perform — one,  too,  obviously  of  the  nature  of  develop¬ 
ment.  The  adjustment  of  doctrines,  in  short,  was 
reciprocal.  The  better  apprehension  of  the  doctrine  of 
atonement  now  attained  laid  the  foundation  for  clearer 
views  of  the  free  forgiveness  and  unmerited  acceptance 
of  the  sinner  ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  consciousness  of 
justification  needed  for  its  support  the  rock-like  founda¬ 
tion  of  a  work  of  atonement  resting  on  an  eternal 
ground  of  righteousness — not  a  mere  governmental 
expedient,  but  such  a  work  as  would  secure  the  con¬ 
science  against  all  sense  of  arbitrariness  in  the  pardon 
bestowed. 

II.  That  in  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone  was  “  in  the 
air  ” — was  in  the  thoughts  and  almost  trembling  on  the 
lips  of  men — is  sufficiently  evidenced  by  the  fact 
already  alluded  to,  that  well-nigh  simultaneously  it 
began  to  be  preached  at  various  centres  by  men  to 
whom  God  had  revealed  it  independently.  Le  Fevre 
in  France,  Zwingli  in  Switzerland,  and  Luther  in 
Germany,  were  each  led  in  their  several  ways  to  the 
acknowledgment  of  this  truth,  and  into  conflict  with 
the  doctrines  and  practices  opposed  to  it.  The  story 
may  or  may  not  be  correct,  that  it  was  as  he  was  pain¬ 
fully  mounting  the  steps  of  the  Scala  Santa  at  Rome 
that  Luther  heard  as  it  were  a  voice  from  heaven — 

“  The  just  shall  live  by  faith  ”  ; 1  but  the  spirit  of  the 
story  at  least  represents  the  fact.  It  was  not  flesh  and 

1  Cf.  Hagenbach,  Hist,  of  Reform,  i.  p.  88  (E.T.). 


REFORMATION  DOCTRINE  OF  JUSTIFICATION  257 


blood  that  revealed  this  doctrine  to  the  Reformers,  but 
their  Father  who  was  in  heaven.  It  is  equally  im¬ 
portant  to  notice  that,  as  it  came  to  them  in  response 
to  practical  needs,  so  it  was  not  a  doctrinal  or  specula¬ 
tive,  but  a  vital,  practical  interest  which  gave  it 
supreme  value  in  their  eyes,  and  led  them  to  make  it 
the  centre  of  all  their  preaching.  They  were  not 
theorists  spinning  doctrinal  cobwebs  from  their  brains, 
but  men  intensely  in  earnest  in  finding  out  the  true 
way  in  which  a  sinner  could  be  at  peace  with  God. 
And  the  great  truth  that  came  to  them— born  of  a 
clear  view  of  what  Christ  had  accomplished  for  them 
on  His  Cross — was  this,  that  the  sinner,  penitent  for 
his  sins,  has  the  right  of  free  access  to  God,  without 
intervention  of  priest,  church,  sacrament,  or  anything 
else  to  stand  between  him  and  his  Maker  ;  and  that 
God  freely  forgives  and  accepts  everyone  laying  hold 
on  His  promise  in  the  Gospel,  without  works,  satisfac¬ 
tions,  or  merits  of  his  own,  but  solely  on  the  ground  of 
Christ’s  atoning  death  and  perfect  righteousness,  to 
which  faith  cleaves  as  the  only  ground  of  its  confidence. 
This  is  the  essential  meaning  of  justification  by  faith — 
that  it  is  not  by  works  of  righteousnesss  that  we  have 
done,  but  according  to  His  mercy  that  God  saves  us  ; 1 
that  even  my  faith  is  not  a  ground  of  merit  before  God, 
but  is  only  the  hand  by  which  I  lay  hold  on  the  mercy 
freely  offered  ;  that  whenever  I  turn  to  God  with  a 
sincerely  believing  heart,  He  answers  me  there  and 
then,  without  any  period  of  probation,  or  torturing 
delays,  with  His  “  Thy  sins  which  are  many  are 
forgiven  thee,” 2  receiving  me  to  His  fellowship,  and 
making  me,  still  for  His  Son’s  sake,  an  heir  of  eternal 
life  ;  and  further,  that  this  absolution,  acquittal,  accept¬ 
ance,  or  however  we  please  to  phrase  it,  is  full,  free, 

1  Titus  iii.  5.  2  Luke  vii.  4 7. 

S 


258 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


unconditional,  an  act  done  once  for  all,  and  neither 
requiring,  nor  admitting  of,  repetition.  Doubtless,  as 
all  the  Reformers  recognised — and  this  is  the  element 
of  truth  in  the  Catholic  doctrine — such  an  act  of 
justification  cannot  take  place  without  an  accompanying 
act  of  moral  renovation.  The  sinner,  through  the  same 
act  of  faith  in  which  he  knows  himself  forgiven  and 
accepted,  dies  to  sin,  that  he  may  thenceforth  live  to 
God  and  to  Christ,  instead  of,  as  heretofore,  to  self ; 
becomes  through  his  union  with  Christ  and  reception 
of  the  Spirit,  a  “  new  creation/’ 1  with  new  thoughts, 
aims,  desires,  and  spiritual  affections.2  But  this  change 
is  in  no  wise  or  degree  the  ground  of  his  acceptance, 
but  is  a  concomitant  or  result  of  it — the  end  for  which 
he  is  justified.  The  new  nature  comes  into  being  with 
the  new  standing  ;  but  it  is  not  because  we  are  holy — 
even  because  of  the  “  germinal  ”  holiness  of  faith  3 — that 
we  are  forgiven  and  received  ;  but  God  accepts  us,  as 
laying  hold  on  His  free  gift  of  righteousness  in  Christ, 
that  He  may  make  us  holy,  as  part  of  the  salvation  He 
destines  for  us.  In  the  noble  words  of  Luther  himself, 
expounding  his  own  doctrine — “  I,  Dr.  Martin  Luther, 

1  2  Cor.  v.  1 7.  Calvin  devotes  himself,  before  even  expounding 
justification,  to  show  that  faith  is  not,  as  he  puts  it  “otiose”  to  good 
works  (iii.  1 1.  I). 

2  This  is  not  a  qualification  of  the  Reformation  doctrine,  but  part  of  it. 
Luther,  e.g. ,  says  :  “  Now  after  that  a  man  is  once  justified,  and  possesseth 
Christ  by  faith,  and  knoweth  that  He  is  his  righteousness  and  life, 
doubtless  he  will  not  be  idle,  but  as  a  good  tree,  he  will  bring  forth  good 
fruits.  For  the  believing  man  hath  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  where  the  Holy 
Ghost  dwelleth,  He  will  not  suffer  a  man  to  be  idle,”  etc. — On  Gal.  ii. 
18. 

3  This  favourite  refinement  of  the  doctrine  is  really  a  departure  from 
the  Reformation  standpoint.  The  righteousness  which  makes  a  man  just 
before  God  is  not  held  germinally  in  faith,  but  is  a  righteousness  which  is 
a  gift  of  God,  received  “through”  faith.  Sanday  and  Headlam  at  least 
Jean  to  the  above  view  when  they  make  the  divine  judgment  apparently 
an  anticipation  of  a  righteousness  afterwards  to  be  realised  in  the  believer 
(Romans,  pp.  25,  30,  38,  etc.).  Ritschl  very  firmly  rejects  this  “germ” 
theory. 


HARMONY  WITH  PAULINE  DOCTRINE  259 


the  unworthy  evangelist  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  thus 
think  and  thus  affirm  : — that  this  article,  viz.,  that  faith 
alone,  without  works,  justifies  before  God,  can  never  be 
overthrown,  for  ...  .  Christ  alone,  the  Son  of  God, 
died  for  our  sins  ;  but  if  He  alone  takes  away  our  sins, 
then  men,  with  all  their  works,  are  to  be  excluded  from 
all  concurrence  in  procuring  the  pardon  of  sin  and 
justification.  Nor  can  I  embrace  Christ  otherwise 
than  by  faith  alone  ;  He  cannot  be  apprehended  by 
works.  But  if  faith,  before  works  follow,  apprehends 
the  Redeemer,  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  faith  alone, 
before  works,  and  without  works,  appropriates  the 
benefit  of  redemption,  which  is  no  other  than  justifica¬ 
tion,  or  deliverance  from  sin.  This  is  our  doctrine  ;  so 
the  Holy  Spirit  teaches  and  the  whole  Christian  Church. 
In  this,  by  the  grace  of  God,  will  we  stand  fast. 
Amen.”  1 

Now  that  this,  which  is  the  Protestant  doctrine,  is 
also  the  Pauline  doctrine — the  doctrine  of  the  Epistles 
to  the  Romans  and  the  Galatians— -might,  in  these 
days  of  scientific  exegesis,  almost  be  taken  for  granted. 
There  is  at  least  hardly  an  exegete  of  the  first  rank 
who  will  dispute  that  in  Paul’s  usage  the  word  Slkcuovv , 
“  to  justify,”  is  employed  uniformly  in  the  sense  of 
absolving,  acquitting,  declaring  righteous  before  the  law, 
and  can  never  bear  the  sense  of  making  righteous,2 — is 
used,  in  short,  in  the  “  forensic  ”  sense,  as  the  opposite 

1  In  Buchanan’s  Justification ,  p.  129. 

2  See  the  emphatic  notes  by  Sanday  and  Headlam  in  Romans,  pp.  30, 
31,  36.  Even  Dr.  J.  H.  Newman,  in  his  Lectures  on  Justification ,  allows 
that  this  is  the  proper  force  of  “justify,”  but  takes  it  in  a  creative  sense, 
as  equivalent  to  “Be  righteous.”  It  is  “an  announcement  or  fiat  of 
Almighty  God,  which  breaks  upon  the  gloom  of  our  natural  state  as  the 
creative  word  upon  chaos  ”  ;  in  declaring  the  soul  righteous,  it  makes  it 
righteous  (Lect.  III.  10).  No  proof  can  be  adduced  for  this  as  part  of 
the  meaning  of  “justify.” 


26o 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


of  “  to  condemn,” — and  that  the  ground  of  this 
absolving  sentence  is  not  “  works  of  righteousness,”  or 
incipient  holiness,1  in  the  person  justified,  but  “  the 
redemption  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  whom  God  set  forth 
to  be  a  propitiation,  through  faith,  by  His  blood.”  2  It 
was  before  remarked  that  the  Reformers  were  far  from 
regarding  justification  as  a  simple  amnesty,  or  passing 
by,  or  forgiveness  of  sin,  without  regard  to  what  is  due 
to  the  condemnatory  testimony  of  His  law  against  sin. 
Justification  was  not  in  their  view,  any  more  than  in 
the  Apostle’s,  the  simple  setting  aside  of  the  claim  of 
the  law  upon  the  sinner,  but  was  the  declaration  that 
that  claim  had  been  satisfied,  and  that  the  law  had  no 
more  any  charge  to  bring  against  him.3  It  is  justifica¬ 
tion  on  an  immutably  righteous  basis  ;  only  that  the 
righteousness  which  grounds  this  new  relation  is  not  in 
the  sinner  himself,  but  in  the  Saviour  with  whom  faith 
unites  him.  How  vitally  Luther  apprehended  this 
truth,  and  how  warmly  he  expressed  it,  can  best  be 
shown  by  culling  a  few  of  his  own  energetic  sentences. 
“  But  we,”  he  says,  “  by  the  grace  of  Christ  holding  the 
article  of  justification,  do  assuredly  know  that  we  are 
justified  and  reputed  righteous  before  God  by  faith 
only  in  Christ.  .  .  .  For  like  as  neither  the  law  nor 
any  work  thereof  is  offered  unto  us,  but  Christ  alone,  so 
nothing  is  required  of  us  but  faith  alone,  whereby  we 
apprehend  Christ,  and  believe  that  our  sins  and  our 

1  Hence  my  difficulty  in  admitting  that  the  righteousness  which  accrues 
to  the  sinner,  and  is  imputed  to  him,  on  the  ground  of  Christ’s  work,  can 
be  the  anticipated  (actual)  righteousness  of  the  believer,  as  Sanday  and 
Headlam  seem  to  think.  This  would  be  a  transition  ds  &\\o  'yivos. 

2  Rom.  iii.  25.  Cf.  above,  p.  234. 

3  Hence  again  my  hesitation  in  saying  with  Sanday  and  Headlam  that 
justification  “  is  simply  forgiveness,  free  forgiveness”  (p.  36).  Forgive¬ 
ness  might  be  simple  amnesty,  but  justification,  as  Paul  and  the  Reformers 
understood  it,  is  something  more.  And  this  the  theory  of  the  authors 
themselves  implies. 


LUTHER  ON  JUSTIFICATION 


261 


death  are  condemned  and  abolished  in  the  sin  and 
death  of  Christ.  .  .  .  Let  us  rest  upon  the  principal 
point  of  this  present  matter  ;  which  is,  that  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Son  of  God,  died  upon  the  cross,  did  bear  in  His 
body  my  sins,  the  law,  death,  the  devil,  and  hell.  .  .  . 
If  then  thou  take  good  hold  of  that  which  Paul  here 
teacheth,  thou  wilt  answer,  I  grant  I  have  sinned. 
Then  God  will  punish  thee.  Nay,  he  will  not  do  so. 
Why,  doth  not  the  law  of  God  so  say  ?  I  have  nothing 
to  do  with  that  law.  Why  so  ?  Because  I  have 
another  law  which  striketh  this  law  dumb,  that  is  to 
say,  liberty.  What  liberty  is  that  ?  The  liberty  of 
Christ,  for  by  Christ  I  am  utterly  freed  from  the  law. 
.  .  .  If  therefore  in  the  matter  of  justification  thou 
separate  the  Person  of  Christ  from  thy  person,  then 
thou  art  in  the  law,  thou  livest  in  the  law  and  not  in 
Christ,  and  so  thou  art  condemned  of  the  law,  and  dead 
before  God.  .  .  .  Faith,  therefore,  must  be  purely 
taught,  viz.,  that  thou  art  so  entirely  and  nearly  joined 
unto  Christ,  that  He  and  thou  art  made  as  it  were  one 
person  ;  so  that  thou  may’st  boldly  say,  I  am  now  one 
with  Christ,  that  is  to  say,  Christ’s  righteousness, 
victory,  and  life  are  mine.  And  again  Christ  may  say, 
I  am  that  sinner,  that  is,  His  sins  and  His  death  are 
mine,  because  He  is  united  and  joined  unto  me,  and  I 
unto  Him.  For  by  faith  we  are  so  joined  together  that 
we  are  become  one  flesh  and  one  bone,  we  are  the 
members  of  the  body  of  Christ,  flesh  of  His  flesh,  and 
bone  of  His  bone.”  1 

The  Roman  Catholic  doctrine  of  justification  was 
for  the  first  time  authoritatively  defined  in  the  Reforma¬ 
tion  age  by  the  Tridentine  Fathers  in  antithetic 
relation  to  the  Protestant.  It  may  be  serviceable, 

1  On  Gal.  ii.  18-20. 


262 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


therefore,  briefly  to  consider  it,  both  as  helping  to 
throw  the  Protestant  doctrine  into  greater  distinctness, 
and  in  view  of  the  numerous  influences  at  work  tending 
to  a  revival  of  Catholic  ideas.  The  deliverances  of  the 
Council  of  Trent  bear  on  them  the  marks  of  the  com¬ 
promise  in  which  they  originated,  but  in  their  broad 
contrast  with  Protestant  doctrine  they  measure 
practically  the  whole  distance  between  the  two 
Churches.  Some  of  the  points  have  already  been 
provisionally  touched  on.1 

A  first  contrast  relates  to  the  place  assigned  in 
justification  to  faith .  Justification,  in  the  Protestant 
doctrine,  is  by  faith.  In  the  language  of  the  schools, 
faith  is  the  “  instrumental  cause  ”  of  our  salvation.  It 
is  that  by  which  we  apprehend  and  appropriate  to  our¬ 
selves  the  divine  benefit  exhibited  to  us  in  the  Person 
and  propitiatory  work  of  Christ.  For  faith,  as  the 
instrumental  cause  of  justification,  the  Church  of  Rome 
substitutes  baptism ,2  It  is  in  baptism,  duly  administered, 
that  we  are  washed  from  our  sins  and  spiritually  renewed 
— in  Rome’s  sense  “  justified.”  Faith,  in  this  view,  sinks 
to  the  level  of  a  predisposing  cause.  It  is  through  faith, 
regarded  as  assent  to  what  God,  or  rather  the  Church, 
teaches,  that  we  are  moved  to  seek  justification  by  bap¬ 
tism.8  And  even  this  place  as  predisposing  cause  is 
not  peculiar  to  faith,  but  is  shared,  along  with  faith,  by 
a  number  of  other  virtues  directly  to  be  mentioned. 

A  second  contrast  relates  to  what  we  may  call  the 
approach  to  justification.  Protestantism  teaches  that 
justification  is  granted  to  those  who  turn  to  God  with 
penitent  and  believing  hearts.  Penitence  and  faith  are 
inseparable  elements  of  the  one  spiritual  state  ;  for  the 

1  I  base  on  the  Decrees  and  Canons  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  taken  in 
conjunction  with  the  Catechism ,  which  enters  into  some  points  more  fully. 

2  Decree  on  Jus  tip.  7.  3  Ibid.  6,  8. 


THE  TRIDENTINE  DOCTRINE 


263 


faith  which  apprehends  Christ  can  only  spring  from  a 
genuinely  contrite  heart,  and,  conversely,  the  germ  of 
faith  in  God’s  mercy  is  already  present  in  penitence, 
else  it  would  not  be  evangelical  penitence  at  all.  But 
merit,  in  the  Reformation  view,  is  not  implied  in  either ; 
both  rather  are  the  explicit  renunciation  of  merit. 
This  requirement  of  penitence  and  faith  in  justification 
Rome  elaborates  into  a  long-drawn-out  doctrine  of  pre¬ 
paration  for  justification.  God,  it  is  taught,  bestows 
“  prevenient  ”  grace,  in  order  that,  in  the  language  of 
the  Council,  “  those  who  by  sins  are  alienated  from 
God  may  be  disposed  through  His  quickening  and 
assisting  grace  to  convert  themselves  to  their  own  justi¬ 
fication  by  freely  assenting  to,  and  co-operating  with, 
the  said  grace.” 1  More  particularly  the  preparation 
consists  in  the  acquirement  of  the  seven  virtues  of  faith, 
fear,  hope,  love,  penitence,  the  purpose  of  receiving  the 
sacrament  (baptism),  and  the  purpose  of  leading  a  new 
and  obedient  life.2  After  all,  when  this  is  accomplished, 
the  individual  is  only  in  the  forecourt — is  prepared,  or 
disposed ,  for  justification  :  a  most  unscriptural  notion. 
A  question  of  some  nicety  here  is — Is  any  meritorious 
character  ascribed  to  these  preparatory  exercises  ? 
The  words  of  the  Council  seem  explicit  enough  — 
“We  are  said  to  be  justified  freely,  because  that 
none  of  those  things  which  precede  justification — 
whether  faith  or  works — merit  the  grace  itself  of 
justification.” 3  This,  however,  is  precisely  one  of  the 
ambiguities  in  the  language  of  the  Council  which  cover 
differences  of  opinion.  It  was,  as  formerly  hinted,  one 
of  the  subtleties  of  the  schoolmen  to  distinguish  two 
kinds  of  merit — one  the  strict  merit  of  condignity 
( meritum  ex  condigno ),  which  gives  a  claim  in  justice  ; 

2  Ibid.  6  :  cf.  Bellarmine,  i.  12. 

3  Ibid.  8. 


1  Decree  on  Jtistif.  5. 


264 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  other,  the  lesser  merit  of  congruity  ( meritum  ex 
congruo ),  which  gives  a  claim  only  in  equity.  Now 
it  was  a  doctrine  held  by  leading  divines  in  the 
Council  that,  though  works  done  before  justification 
did  not  merit  that  grace  by  the  merit  of  condignity, 
they  did  merit  it  by  the  merit  of  congruity,  i.e., 
they  made  it  right  in  equity  that  God  should  bestow 
the  blessing.  That  the  language  of  the  Decree  is  not 
meant  to  exclude  this  lower  grade  of  merit  is  evident 
both  from  the  recorded  debates,  and  from  the  teaching 
of  Bellarmine  and  most  Roman  theologians.  Bellar- 
mine  expressly  states  that,  when  preparatory  works  are 
affirmed  not  to  merit  justification,  this  merely  means 
that  they  do  not  merit  it  ex  condigno ,  and  he  main¬ 
tains  that  they  do  merit  it  ex  congruo.  He  explicitly 
asserts  that  the  above-named  virtues  are  the  meritorious 
causes  of  justification,  and  most  Roman  theologians,  as 
I  say,  follow  in  his  steps.1 

This  preparation  assumed,  we  come  next  to  the  act 
of  justification  itself.  Justification,  as  I  have  already  said, 
is  connected  by  Rome  with  baptism.  What  then  hap¬ 
pens  in  baptism  ?  In  the  first  place,  it  is  declared  that 
the  person  baptized  is  perfectly  and  inwardly  cleansed 
from  all  original  and  actual  sin  :  further,  that  he  has  in¬ 
fused  into  him  a  new  and  supernatural  righteousness, 
constituting  him  holy  and  a  friend  of  God.2  This  is 
his  justification,  in  antithesis  to  the  Protestant  doctrine, 
which,  I  have  shown,  explains  it  of  God’s  act  in  declar¬ 
ing  the  sinner  righteous  on  the  ground  of  Christ’s  com¬ 
pleted  work.  Lest,  however,  we  should  be  stumbled 
(as  we  well  may)  at  finding  how  much  sin  can  still 
appear  in  a  soul  declared  to  be  purged  from  all  traces 
of  it,  the  Council  goes  on  to  explain  that  “  concupi- 

1  De  Jiistif .  i.  21.  Cf.  Cunningham,  Hist.  Theol.  ii.  pp.  26,  27. 

2  Decree  on  Orig.  Sin ,  5  ;  On  Jiistif.  7. 


THE  TRIDENTINE  DOCTRINE 


265 


scence  ” — another  name  for  inordinate  desire — is  left 
for  the  exercise  of  the  Christian’s  virtues ;  and  the 
difficulty  of  its  presence  is  got  over  by  the  declara¬ 
tion  that  concupiscence  is  not  truly  and  properly  of 
the  nature  of  sin,  though  admittedly  the  Apostle  Paul 
calls  it  such.1  Not  only,  moreover,  does  the  Romish 
doctrine  perpetuate  the  error  of  confusing  justification 
with  regeneration  and  sanctification  2  (which  might  be 
only  a  mistake  of  nomenclature),  but  it  takes  the  more 
perilous  step  of  speaking  of  this  infused  righteousness 
as,  in  scholastic  phrase,  the  “  formal  cause  ”  of  our  justi¬ 
fication,3  i.e.,  the  proximate  ground  on  which  God  pro¬ 
nounces  us  righteous,  restores  us  to  favour,  and  gives 
us  the  title  to  eternal  life.  The  Cross  of  Christ, 
indeed,  is  still  declared  to  be  the  ultimate  meritorious 
cause  ; 4  but  it  will  readily  be  seen  that  there  is  an  im¬ 
mense  difference  between  saying  that  Christ’s  propitia¬ 
tory  sacrifice  is  the  sole  ground  of  my  acceptance,  and 
saying  that  Christ’s  sacrifice  and  merit  have  purchased 
for  me  grace  by  which  I  am  now  able  to  merit  my 
salvation  for  myself,  which  is  the  Tridentine  point  of 
view.5 

It  is  but  the  logical  carrying  out  of  the  same 
scheme  when  justification,  begun  in  the  manner  de¬ 
scribed,  is  next  regarded  as  completed  by  the  believer's 
own  good  works.  Good  works  are  now  viewed  as 
having  the  full  value  of  merit  of  condignity,  and  as 
creating  a  proper  title  to  eternal  life.  “  We  must 
believe,”  says  the  Council,  “  that  nothing  is  wanting  to 
the  justified  to  prevent  them  being  accounted  to  have, 
by  those  very  works  which  they  have  done  in  God, 
fully  satisfied  the  divine  law,  according  to  the  state  of 
this  life,  and  to  have  truly  merited  eternal  life,  to  be 

1  Ibid,  and  Catech.  pt.  ii.  ch.  2,  quest.  42.  Cf.  Rom.  vii.  14,  17. 

2  On  Justify  7.  3  Ibid.  4  Ibid.  5  Ibid.  3,  7- 


266 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


obtained  in  its  due  time.”1  Justification,  we  discover, 
admits  of  degrees  and  increase,  and  a  title  has  to  be 
earned  by  the  addition  of  good  works  before  salvation 
is  fully  attained.2 

All  this  is  grave  enough,  but  its  effects  in  distorting 
the  doctrine  of  justification  are  cast  into  the  shade  by 
the  place  given  in  the  Roman  system  to  penance .3 
We  saw  in  an  earlier  part  of  the  lecture  that  the  for¬ 
giveness  obtained  in  baptism  is  held  to  apply  only  to 
sins  committed  before  baptism,  and  that  /^-baptismal 
sins  are  left  to  be  expiated  in  some  other  way.  The 
Tridentine  dogma  holds  to  the  assertion  that  this 
justification,  commenced  in  baptism,  and  perpetuated 
and  increased  by  good  works,  avails  only  for  the 
removal  of  pre-baptismal  sin.  The  moment  the  soul 
lapses  into  sin  after  baptism — at  least  into  mortal  sin 
— the  whole  work  has  to  be  begun  anew,  this  time  on 
a  totally  different  basis.4  This,  the  most  remarkable 
development  of  all  in  Romish  doctrine,  does  not  seem 
to  me  to  have  received  nearly  the  amount  of  attention  it 
deserves.  Even  supposing  we  could  accept  everything 
this  Church  has  hitherto  taught  us  of  the  way  of 
justification,  it  would  still  avail  us  little,  seeing  that, 
with  scarcely  an  exception,  all  fall  from  this  first  state 
of  grace,  and  need  to  be  restored  on  quite  a  different 
footing.  What  I  mean  is,  that 'there  are  practically  not 
any  who  have  not  forfeited  the  grace  of  their  original 
baptism  by  mortal  sin,  as  the  Roman  Church  defines 
that  class  of  sins,  and  do  not  need  to  be  justified 
afresh  by  the  methods  laid  down  in  the  sacrament  of 
penance.  It  is  not  the  first  justification  accordingly, 
but  this  second  justification,  on  which,  in  the  practical 

1  Onjustif  1 6.  2  Ibid,  io,  16. 

3  Ibid.  14;  Decree  on  Penance  (cf.  ch.  1).  4  Ibid.  15. 


ROMISH  DOCTRINE  OF  PENANCE 


267 


working  of  the  system,  the  stress  mainly  lies.  And 
here  it  is,  that,  having  made  our  bow  to  the  scriptural 
doctrine,  we  take  our  final  leave  of  it,  and  launch  out 
unrestrained  on  other  waters.  I  can  only  indicate  the 
drift  of  the  new  departure. 

Sins  committed  after  baptism  are,  we  are  told,  of 
two  kinds — venial ,  which  weaken  grace  in  the  soul, 
and  mortal ,  which  destroy  grace.1  The  mortal  sins  are 
pride,  covetousness,  unchastity,  anger,  gluttony,  envy, 
sloth  ;  and  who  is  there,  it  may  be  asked,  who  does 
not,  at  some  period  in  his  life,  fall  into  one  or  other  of 
these  ?  Suppose  then  we  have  fallen  from  grace  by 
committing  a  mortal  sin,  what  is  the  remedy  ?  Baptism 
avails  no  more,  but  God  in  his  mercy  has  provided  a 
new  sacrament — a  “  second  plank,”  as  it  is  called — viz., 
penance.2  It  is  in  this  article  of  penance,  as  I  say, 
if  anywhere,  that  we  are  to  seek  the  real  doctrine  of 
justification  in  Romanism  as  a  working  system.  And 
here  grace  retreats  finally  into  the  background,  and 
works  come  to  the  front.  Assume  grace  to  be  lost, 
what  is  to  be  done  ?  The  penitent  is  exhorted  to 
contrition  (contrition  without  grace  ?),  and  is  even 
assured  that,  if  his  contrition  were  perfect,  it  alone 
would  suffice  to  procure  forgiveness.8  But  contrition 
seldom  or  never  is  perfect ;  God,  therefore,  has  provided 
an  easier  method  in  confession ,  for  which  a  lesser  degree 
of  penitence,  called  attrition,  will  suffice.4  Confession 
made,  the  priest,  in  virtue  of  the  divine  authority 
delegated  to  him,  gives  absolution ,  at  the  same  time 
prescribing  certain  works  of  penance  as  satisfaction.5 
It  might  appear  as  if,  by  this  absolving  act,  the 

1  Decree  on  Penance ,  5.  2  On  Justif.  14  ;  On  Penance ,  1. 

3  On  Penance ,  4  ;  Catech.  pt.  ii.  ch.  2,  quests.  34-36. 

4  Ibid.  5.  Attrition  is  said  to  be  “commonly  conceived  either  from 

the  consideration  of  the  turpitude  of  sin,  or  from  the  fear  of  hell  and  its 
punishment  ”  (ch.  4).  5  Ibid.  6,  8,  9. 


268 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


penitent  were  again  justified  ;  but  it  is  not  so.  He  is 
freed  only  as  respects  the  eternal  penalty  of  his  sin. 
Even  after  the  guilt  and  eternal  punishment  have  been 
remitted,  there  remains  a  temporal  penalty ,  and  this 
must  be  discharged  by  the  sinner’s  own  efforts  and 
endurances  in  good  works  and  penances.1  Supposing 
the  whole  of  this  obligation  is  not  discharged — and 
practically  it  never  is  in  this  life — the  balance  is  carried 
over  to  purgatory,  and  has  to  be  wrought  off  there.2 
This,  be  it  remembered,  after  the  soul  has  received 
absolution,  and  died  in  a  state  of  grace,  or  justification  ! 
There  are  still  remedies — masses,  indulgences,  merits 
of  the  saints — which  can  be  applied  to  relieve  from 
purgatory  ;  but  into  this  region,  thorny  with  questions 
on  which  doctors  themselves  differ,  I  do  not  enter. 
Yet  this  is  the  system — error  piled  on  error,  as  I  believe 
it  to  be — which  Rome  substitutes  for  the  scriptural 
doctrine  of  justification  ;  which  is,  as  I  have  said,  her 
working  doctrine  !  And  after  it  all,  if  that  church  is 
to  be  believed,  no  man  can  ever  know  that  he  is 
justified,  or  will  be  saved.3  It  is  a  dark,  doubtful, 
fearful  way  by  which  Rome  leads  her  votaries,  with 
purgatory  in  the  immediate  foreground,  and  heaven  as 
a  distant  perhaps  beyond  !  Against  this  travesty  of 
the  grace  of  God,  the  Reformers  did  surely  an  in¬ 
calculable  service  in  sounding  forth,  for  the  comfort  of 
their  own  and  succeeding  generations,  the  grand 
emancipating  truth,  “  Being  justified  by  faith,  we  have 
peace  with  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.”  4 

III.  The  chief  points  in  the  doctrine  of  justification 
at  the  Reformation,  viz.: — (i)  that  justification  is  of 
God’s  free  grace,  and  not  of  works  ;  (2)  that  it  is 


1  On  Justif.  14  ;  On  Penance ,  8. 
3  On  Justif.  9. 


2  Cf.  Decree  on  Purgatory. 
4  Rom.  v.  1. 


AFTER  CONTROVERSY  ON  JUSTIFICATION  269 


through  faith  alone;  (3)  that  it  includes  the  forgiveness  of 
sins  and  the  pronouncing  of  the  sinner  righteous  before 
God  ;  (4)  that  it  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the  internal 
change  we  designate  regeneration  and  sanctification, 
and  does  not  proceed  on  the  ground  of  this  change  ; 
(5)  that  it  is  nevertheless  not  a  mere  amnesty,  but  has 
its  ground  in  the  perfect  righteousness  of  Christ,  and 
the  atonement  made  by  Him  for  sin  ;  and  (6)  that  it 
is  instantaneous  and  complete,  an  act  of  God  never  to 
be  repeated, — these  cardinal  points  in  the  doctrine,  on 
which  all  the  Reformers  were  at  one,  were  then  fixed, 
I  believe,  beyond  the  power  of  future  recall.  Yet  the 
strong  religious  assertion  of  these  truths,  and  even  the 
clear  demarcation  of  them  from  the  counter  Romish 
errors,  were  far  from  completing  the  theological  develop¬ 
ment  on  the  subject.  The  theological  task,  indeed,  only 
properly  commenced  when,  the  immediate  impulse 
having  spent  itself,  men  were  led  to  inquire  more  care¬ 
fully  into  the  meaning  of  the  terms  they  used,  and  into 
the  relations  of  the  ideas  represented  by  them.  It  is 
difficult  in  such  a  process  to  avoid  falling  back  into  the 
faults  of  an  over-eager  scholasticism,  and  the  post- 
Reformation  Church  by  no  means  escaped  that  danger. 
Still,  we  cannot  help  seeing  that  the  controversies  which 
sprang  up  so  thickly  in  the  days  immediately  succeeding 
the  Reformation  had  their  place  and  meaning  in  the 
history  of  dogma,  and,  while  marred  by  human  in¬ 
firmity,  and  the  violence  of  party  passion,  were  such  as 
were  bound  to  arise  in  the  thorough  investigation  of  the 
problems  to  which  the  newly-won  evangelical  conscious¬ 
ness  gave  birth.  It  was  not  merely  the  ever-present 
antagonism  of  the  Roman  Church  which  forced  the 
Reformers  into  controversy.  The  Reformation  itself 
had  set  loose  a  multitude  of  forces — mystical,  rational¬ 
istic,  revolutionary — from  which  sprang  new  and 


270 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


vigorous  forms  of  opposition.  Equally  keen  were  the 
disputes  between  the  Lutheran  and  Reformed  sections 
of  Protestantism,  though  these  did  not  much  affect  the 
article  of  justification.  There  were  again  the  sharp 
conflicts  which  arose  within  the  bosom  of  the  Lutheran 
Church  itself,  with  the  errors  and  one-sidednesses  they 
involved.  These  may  be  said  to  have  run  their  course 
by  1  577,  when  the  Formula  of  Concord ,  which  was 
drawn  up  to  settle  them,  was  adopted.  A  glance 
also  may  be  taken  before  I  close  at  the  Socinian 
opposition. 

One  thing  which  greatly  helped  the  Reformed 
Church  in  these  controversies,  in  comparison  with  the 
Lutheran,  was  its  possession  of  the  consummate  con¬ 
structive  genius  of  Calvin,  who  gave  its  doctrines  a 
compactness  and  consistency  never  attained  in  the  rival 
communion.  It  had  further  the  advantage  of  shaking 
itself  entirely  clear,  as  the  Lutheran  Church  did  not, 
from  the  doctrine  of  baptismal  regeneration.  There 
must  always  be  a  difficulty  in  combining  consistently  a 
doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  with  a  doctrine  which 
regards  every  baptized  person  as  regenerate.  For  if 
regenerate,  then  surely  also  justified  and  saved.  With 
Luther,  accordingly,  faith,  in  the  case  of  the  baptized, 
tends  to  be  regarded  more  as  the  coming  to  conscious¬ 
ness  of  a  blessing  already  possessed,  than  as  the  entrance 
into  a  new  state  of  forgiveness  and  acceptance.  There 
is  an  important  aspect  of  truth  in  this  view  also,  which 
needs  to  have  justice  done  to  it.  The  Church  is  before 
the  individual  ;  and  regeneration,  in  the  case  of  those 
brought  up  under  gracious  influences,  may  antecede  the 
clear  knowledge  of  the  state  of  privilege  into  which 
faith  in  Christ  introduces  us.  But  it  is  erroneous  to 
bind  this  up  with  a  sacramental  theory.  The  Reformed 
Church,  hampered  with  no  such  theory,  while  far  from 


DOCTRINE  OF  OSIANDER 


271 


depreciating  the  sacraments,  was  able  to  work  out  its 
system  with  greater  precision  and  coherence. 

It  was  the  aim  of  the  Reformers  to  preserve  the 
balance  between  the  objective  and  subjective  sides  of 
salvation,  and  errors  arose  on  one  side  or  the  other 
according  as  this  balance  was  disturbed.  In  Anabaptist 
and  mystical  circles  the  tendency  was  to  the  rejection 
of  the  forms  of  an  imputation  theology,  and  reversion  to 
the  notion  of  justification  by  imparted  righteousness. 
A  peculiar  type  of  mysticism  is  represented  by  Osiander, 
to  whom  Calvin  devotes  so  much  attention.1  Osiander 
did  not  exactly  deny  objective  redemption,  though  this 
is  put  into  the  background  with  him  ;  but,  with  much 
else  of  a  dubious  order,  he  explained  justification  as  the 
infusion  into  the  soul  of  an  essential  divine  righteous¬ 
ness — the  righteousness  of  God’s  own  being.  Christ’s 
humanity  thus  becomes  at  best  the  medium  by  which 
He  conveys  to  us,  and  makes  us  participate  in,  His 
essential  nature  as  Deity.  In  defending  their  doctrine 
against  this  class  of  objectors,  the  Reformers  had  to 
show  that  the  imputation  they  contended  for  was  no 
legal  fiction,  but  the  ascription  to  the  sinner  of  that 
standing  before  God  and  His  law — that  immunity  from 
condemnation,  and  claim  to  favour — to  which  his 
connection  with  Christ  really  entitled  him.  If  he  was 
not  condemned,  but  was  pardoned,  and  received  to 
fellowship,  it  was  because  no  charge  could  any  longer, 
in  light  of  his  relation  to  Christ,  be  rightfully  brought 
against  him.2  And  they  safeguarded  their  doctrine 
from  antinomian  abuse  by  making  vital  union  with 
Christ  the  condition  of  justification — a  union  in  which 
“  we  have  adopted  that  One  in  whom  obedience  and 
suffering  took  place  for  us,  and  even  thus  do  we  receive 
1  Cf.  Instil,  iii.  11.  2  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  pp.  273  ff. 


272 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


with  Christ  also  the  effects  of  His  life  and  suffering  ”  ; 1 
in  which,  not  less,  Christ  unites  Himself  with  us,  and 
dwells  in  us,  as  the  source  of  every  spiritual  blessing.  To 
those  who  accused  their  doctrine  of  opening  the  way  to 
sin,  they  pointed  out  that  acceptance  of  Christ  in  faith 
is  acceptance  of  the  whole  Christ — of  Christ  in  all  His 
offices ,  and  for  all  the  ends  of  His  work — for  sanctifica¬ 
tion  as  well  as  for  justification,2 — and  that,  holiness 
being  the  end  of  pardon,  for  anyone  to  think  of  accepting 
Christ  for  forgiveness,  while  refusing  to  own  Him  as 
Lord,  is  only  thereby  to  show  that  he  has  not  yet 
attained  a  glimpse  of  what  true  faith  means.3 

It  is  unnecessary  to  enter  into  the  complicated 
details  of  the  Lutheran  Controversies ,  though,  as  has  been 
said,  they  were  not  mere  products  of  a  spirit  of  strife, 
but  discussions  which  it  was  inevitable  should  arise  in 
the  attempt  at  a  more  exact  settlement  of  the  doctrine 
on  its  different  sides.  Justification  had,  on  the  one 
hand,  an  aspect  of  relation  to  Christ’s  work  ;  on  the 
other,  an  aspect  of  relation  to  regeneration,  and  to  the 
new  life  and  good  works  of  the  believer.  Hence 
questions  which  we  are  apt  to  think  frivolous,  but  which 
had,  nevertheless,  a  good  deal  of  substance  in  them,  as 
to  the  relation  of  justification  to  Christ’s  active  and 
passive  obedience  ;  as  to  whether  the  notion  of  justi¬ 
fication  is  exhausted  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins  (Piscator), 
or  does  not  also  include  the  idea  of  the  conferring  of  a 
positive  title  to  the  blessing  of  eternal  life  ;  as  to  the 
relation  of  the  believer  to  the  law,  of  faith  to  repent¬ 
ance,  of  good  works  to  ultimate  salvation,  etc.  One 
point  only  may  be  here  touched  on  for  its  intrinsic 

1  Dorner,  Prot.  Theol.  i.  p.  353  (E.T.).  Cf.  Calvin,  Instit.  iii.  1  ; 
ii.  16.  16,  19. 

2  Instit .  iii.  2.  7  ;  16,  etc.  3  Cf.  Rom,  vi. 


THE  “ ORDO  SALUTIS" 


2  73 


interest,  viz.,  the  question  so  much  canvassed  in  the  age 
of  the  Reformation,  and  often  discussed  since,  as  to  the 
relative  priority  of  regeneration  or  justification,  or,  as  it 
is  sometimes  called,  the  question  of  the  ordo  salutis } 
It  may  be  said  to  arise  from  such  language  as  I  have 
just  used  as  to  the  necessity  of  spiritual  union  with 
Christ  for  justification.  Broadly,  the  difficulty  is  this  : 
if  vital  union  with  Christ  precedes  justification,  and 
faith,  by  which  this  union  is  effected,  is  the  act  of  a 
quickened  soul,  we  seem  committed  to  the  paradox  that 
a  sinner  is  regenerated,  or  becomes  a  child  of  God, 
before  he  is  justified,  z>.,  while  yet  under  condemnation. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  put  justification  first,  we  seem 
driven  to  admit  either  that  there  is  justification  before 
faith,  or  that  faith  is  an  act  of  an  unregenerated  soul. 
Distinction  in  order  of  time,  it  may  be  granted,  there  is 
none  ;  but  in  order  of  thought,  it  is  held,  one  state  must 
condition  the  other,  and  a  dilemma  seems  to  arise  on 
either  alternative.  Theologians  have  wavered  on  this 
subject  in  the  most  remarkable  manner.  Ordinarily, 
perhaps,  regeneration  is  placed  first,  and  regarded  as 
the  cause  of  faith  ;  many,  on  the  other  hand,  contest 
this  view,  and  place  justification  first.  This  involves 
the  grave  difficulty  that  consistency  seems  to  require 
them  to  put  justification  even  before  faith  ;  but  they  do 
not  shrink  from  this  consequence.  In  foro  dei ,  they 
hold,  justification  has  already  taken  place — is  an  eternal 
act ;  faith  only  puts  the  believer  subjectively  in  posses¬ 
sion  of  a  blessing  actually  his.2  I  do  not  think  that 
this  is  sound  Reformation  theology,  or  is  the  light  in 
which  the  Scripture  presents  the  matter.  Even  in  the 

1  Ritschl  presses  the  question  very  strongly  in  his  criticism  of  the 
Reformation  theology.  Cf.  his  Justif.  and  Recon.  i.  188,  268,  271, 
276,  279,  etc.;  Dorner,  Trot.  Theol.  ii.  157-163  (E.T.). 

2  Thus,  e.g.,  Dorner,  Ritschl,  A.  A.  Hodge,  etc.  Cf.  article  by  the 
last-named  in  Princeton  Review  for  1878. 

T 


274 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


divine  mind  justification  cannot  be  thought  of  save  as 
the  object  of  it  is  viewed  as  in  a  true  sense  in  union  with 
Christ  ;  but  that  union  as  surely  implies  an  antecedent 
operation  of  the  Spirit  to  bring  it  about.  If  it  were  argued 
that  behind  man’s  regeneration  stands  Christ’s  completed 
work,  and  God’s  purpose  to  justify,  there  would  be  less 
difficulty,  for  undoubtedly  justification  is  the  end  of 
all  God’s  gracious  operations  in  bringing  souls  to  faith. 
But  the  truer  view  would  seem  to  be  that  regeneration, 
in  the  full  sense,  can  as  little  be  said  to  precede  justifica¬ 
tion,  as  justification  to  precede  it ;  for  it  is  the  same 
supreme  act  which  unites  us  to  Christ  for  our  justifica¬ 
tion  in  which  regeneration  also  is  spiritually  completed.1 
What  does  precede  faith,  and  beget  it,  is  the  exhibition 
of  God’s  gracious  disposition  and  His  promise  of  salva¬ 
tion  in  Christ.  We  err,  it  seems  to  me,  in  endeavouring 
to  separate  the  factors  in  a  process  all  the  elements  of 
which  are  reciprocally  conditioning.  As  well  might  we 
ask  whether,  in  the  apprehension  of  truth,  the  act  of 
intellect  precedes  the  possession  of  the  truth,  or  vice 
versa.  For  clearly,  unless  in  some  sense  the  truth  were 
already  within  the  mind’s  ken,  it  could  not  be  grasped 
by  it.  The  psychological  process  in  which  God  reveals 
His  Son  in  a  soul  is  too  subtle  and  swift-glancing  for 
our  categories  of  before  and  after. 

The  assault  on  the  Reformation  doctrine  from  the 
side  of  Socinianism  went  certainly  to  the  root  of  the 
matter  ;  yet,  from  its  obvious  want  of  religious  depth 
and  earnestness,  it  failed  to  make  much  impression  on 
the  general  consciousness  of  the  Church.  The  Socinian 
objection  may  be  summed  up  in  the  proposition,  often 
repeated  since,  and  attractive  by  its  plausibility— satis- 

1  Regeneration  also  is  used  sometimes  in  a  wider,  sometimes  in  a 
narrower  sense.  Calvin  uses  it  in  a  wide  sense. 


THE  SOCINIAN  OBJECTION 


275 


faction  and  remission  exclude  each  other.  If  sins  have 
been  satisfied  for  by  Christ,  they  cannot  be  freely 
remitted  ;  their  remission  is  of  debt.  If  they  are  freely 
remitted,  there  is  no  place  left  for  satisfaction.1  Yet 
Christian  faith,  which  knows  the  magnitude  and  free¬ 
ness  of  the  blessing  it  has  received,  and  at  the  same 
time  gratefully  traces  all  it  has  to  the  mediation  of 
Christ,  knows  beforehand  that  the  would-be  dilemma 
involves  a  fallacy,  and,  in  feeling,  if  not  in  intellect, 
already  overleaps  the  contradiction.  Nor,  if  we  avoid 
pressing  unduly  the  analogy  of  a  debt,  which  in  moral 
relations  is  only  applicable  within  limits,  does  the 
difficulty  seem  a  serious  one.  This  is,  indeed,  the 
divine  paradox  of  salvation,  that  it  is  both  of  these 
things  at  once — -an  act  of  infinite  grace,  wholly  unsought 
and  unmerited  by  the  sinner  ;  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  a 
blessing  bestowed  in  harmony  with  the  claims  of 
righteousness,  and  on  the  ground  of  a  perfect  atone¬ 
ment  for  sin.  The  grace  is  shown,  not  in  dispensing 
with  atonement,  but  in  providing  it.  The  forgiveness, 
as  respects  the  sinner,  is  free ;  as  for  the  Forgiver, 
He  takes  the  burden  of  what  is  needed  for  the  satisfac¬ 
tion  of  the  claims  of  righteousness  upon  Himself,  and 
to  the  grace  of  forgiveness  adds  the  further  grace 
of  seeing  that  the  conditions  of  its  bestowal  are 
righteously  fulfilled.  Under  no  aspect  is  the  trans¬ 
action  a  purely  external  or  legal  one.  Spiritual  and 
ethical  elements  are  involved  at  every  point.  Saviour 
and  sinner  do  not  stand  apart  from  each  other.  There 
is  a  relation  of  kinship  and  sympathy  on  the  one 
hand  ;  the  spiritual  bond  of  faith  on  the  other.  It  is 
the  old  idea  of  Bernard  :  the  Head  satisfies  for  the 
members,  yet  the  members  no  less  recognise  the  grace 
that  flows  to  them  from  the  Head. 

1  Cf.  Calvin,  Instit.  ii.  17. 


IX 

Post-Reformation  Theology  :  Lutheranism  and  Calvin¬ 
ism — New  Influences  acting  on  Theology  and 
their  Results  in  Rationalism  (Seventeenth 
and  Eighteenth  Centuries) 


“We  must  have  the  living  faith  of  Luther,  as  well  as  his  orthodoxy.” — 
Spener. 

‘  ‘  Grapes  do  not  grow  on  bramble  bushes.  Illustrious  natures  do  not  form 
themselves  upon  narrow  and  cruel  theories.  .  .  .  Calvinism  has  borne  ever 
an  inflexible  front  to  illusion  and  mendacity,  and  has  preferred  rather  to  be 
ground  to  powder  like  flint  than  bend  before  violence  or  melt  under  enervating 
temptation.  ” — Froude. 

“To  omit  Calvin  from  the  forces  of  Western  evolution  is  to  read  history 
with  one  eye  shut.  To  say  that  Hobbes  and  Cromwell  stand  for  the  positive 
results  of  the  intellectual  revolution  in  Protestant  countries,  and  that  Calvin 
does  not,  is  to  ignore  what  the  Calvinistic  Churches  were,  and  what  they  have 
done  for  moral  and  social  causes  in  the  old  world  and  the  new.  Hobbes  and 
Cromwell  were  giants  in  their  several  ways,  but  if  we  consider  their  power  of 
binding  men  together  by  stable  association  and  organisation,  their  present 
influence  over  the  moral  convictions  and  conduct  of  vast  masses  of  men  for 
generation  after  generation,  the  marks  they  have  set  on  social  and  political 
institutions  wherever  the  Protestant  faith  prevails,  from  the  country  of  John 
Knox  to  the  country  of  Jonathan  Edwards,  we  cannot  but  see  that  compared 
with  Calvin,  not  in  capacity  of  intellect,  but  in  power  of  giving  formal  shape 
to  a  world,  Hobbes  and  Cromwell  are  hardly  more  than  names  writ  in  water.” 
— J.  Morley. 

*  *  The  Christian  religion  does  not  need  to  beg  for  pity  or  mercy  :  it  need 
not  fall  on  its  knees  and  cry  out  imploringly  for  life  :  the  day  will  reveal 
whether  it  has  gold  and  silver  or  straw  and  stubble  to  oppose  to  these 
devastating  flames.” — Semler. 


LECTURE  IX 


Post-Reformation  Theology  ;  Lutheranism  and  Calvinism — New 
Influences  acting  on  Theology  and  their  Results  in  Rational¬ 
ism  (Seventeenth  and  Eighteenth  Centuries). 

WITH  Professor  Harnack  the  history  of  dogma  closes 
at  the  Reformation.  Protestant  theology,  from  a 
different  motive,  has  gone  practically  on  the  same 
hypothesis.  It  plants  itself  upon  the  creeds  of  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  and  regards  any 
deviation  from  these,  or  tampering  with  them,  as  a 
species  of  defection.  There  is  thus  far  justification  for 
Harnack’s  view,  that,  with  the  exception  of  the  dogma 
of  Papal  Infallibility,  promulgated  by  the  Vatican 
Council  in  1870,  of  which  he  takes  account,  there  has 
been  no  attempt  since  the  Reformation  period  to 
formulate  a  new  doctrine  in  documents  having  general* 
authority.1  The  Protestant  creeds  of  Post-Reformatior>| 
date — the  Canons  of  the  Synod  of  Dort,  and  the  West¬ 
minster  Confession,  for  example,  only  bring  up  the  rear 
of  the  Reformation  movement,  and  do  little  more  thaA 
reproduce  or  crystallise  its  results.  Yet  everyone  who 
knows  the  history  of  theology  is  well  aware  that  the 
development  of  doctrine  did  not  stop  with  the  sixteenth 
century.  It  has  passed  through  momentous  phases 
since,  and  is  still  in  progress  under  the  action  of  ideas 

1  Pius  IX.  promulgated  in  1864  the  dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Con¬ 
ception  of  the  Virgin,  but  it  is  not  embodied  in  any  creed. 


28o 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


and  influences  that  continue  profoundly  to  modify  it. 
One  branch  of  theology,  indeed,  I  have  not  yet  touched 
on  at  all,  viz.,  Eschatology.  For,  though  the  doctrine  of 
the  Last  Things  has  necessarily  always  had  a  place  in 
Church  thought  and  speculation — had  even  in  the 
Mediaeval  Church  an  extraordinary  mythological  de¬ 
velopment  x- — it  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  had  an 
“  epoch  ”  or  period  in  which  it  was  exhaustively  dis¬ 
cussed  as  other  doctrines  have  been.  I  have  thrown 
out  the  suggestion 1  2  that,  if  any  age  can  be  named  as 
an  “  epoch  ”  for  this  doctrine,  it  is  our  own  age,  with  its 
generally  widened  outlook  on  the  universe,  its  larger 
conceptions  of  the  divine  love,  its  better  knowledge  of 
heathenism,  its  fin  de  siecle  feeling — all  which  have 
combined  to  press  on  it  with  peculiar  intensity  the 
questions  of  the  future  destiny  of  the  individual  and 
the  race.  In  any  case  the  subject  is  one  which  can 
only  be  profitably  discussed  as  the  outcome  of  an 
intelligent  apprehension  of  all  the  other  doctrines  of 
the  Christian  system.  I  leave  it,  therefore,  till  the  last 
lecture.  Meanwhile  I  proceed  to  look  at  the  general 
causes  which  have  tended  to  modify  doctrine  since  the 
age  of  the  Reformation,  and  at  some  of  their  principal 
effects. 

I.  I  have  already  hinted  that  the  Reformation  age 
was  marked  by  its  productivity  in  Creeds.  We  do  well 
not  lightly  to  estimate  the  gain  that  accrues  to  us  from 
these  creations  of  the  sixteenth  century  spirit.  We 
shall  greatly  err  if,  following  a  prevalent  tendency,  we 
permit  ourselves  to  think  of  them  only  as  archaeological 
curiosities.  These  creeds  were  no  dry-as-dust  produc- 

1  Cf.  Lect.  X.  The  classical  representation  of  Mediaeval  eschatology 
is  in  Dante’s  immortal  epic. 

2  Cf.  Lect.  I.  p.  29. 


THE  RE  FORM  A  TION  CREEDS 


281 


tions,  but  came  molten  and  glowing  from  the  fires  of  a 
living  faith,  and  enshrine  truth  which  no  Church  can 
part  with  without  serious  detriment  to  its  own  life. 
They  are  the  classical  products  of  a  distinctively  creed- 
making  age,  by  which  I  mean  an  age  that  possesses  a 
faith  which  it  is  able  to  state  intelligibly,  and  for  which! 
it  is  ready,  if  need  be,  to  suffer- — which,  therefore,  \ 
cannot  but  express  itself  in  forms  that  have  enduring 
worth.  Such  ages  do  not  come  at  men’s  bidding,  and 
till  they  do  come,  the  process  of  creed-making,  or  creed- 
tinkering,  will  not  have  much  success.  It  is  a  signifw 
cant  fact  that  the  creeds  of  the  Reformation  age 
remain,  as  I  have  said,  in  practically  unchanged  form, 
to  this  hour  the  doctrinal  bases  of  the  great  Protestant 
Churches.  What  modifications  have  been  made  on 
them  are  unimportant,  and  the  efforts  to  displace  them 
by  newer  symbols  have  not  had  much  success.  The 
Lutheran  Church,  e.g. ,  notwithstanding  the  rationalism 
that  has  abounded  within  its  borders,  still  stands  broad- 

1 

based  on  its  Augsburg  Confession  ;  the  Anglican  Church 
on  its  Thirty-Nine  Articles  ;  our  Presbyterian  Churches 
on  the  Westminster  and  similar  Confessions.1  These 
creeds  have  stood  as  witnesses,  even  in  times  of 
greatest  declension,  to  the  great  doctrines  on  which 
the  Churches  were  established  ;  have  served  as  bulwarks 
against  assault  and  disintegration  ;  have  formed  a 
rallying-ground  for  faith  in  times  of  its  revival ;  and 
have  always,  perhaps,  represented  with  substantial 
accuracy  the  living  faith  of  the  spiritual  'part  of  their 
membership. 

There  is  another  point  of  view,  however,  in  which 

1  I  do  not  forget  the  great  Wesleyan,  Baptist,  and  Independent 
Churches,  but  so  far  as  these  have  creeds  they  are  in  substance 
evangelical. 


282 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


those  creeds  more  nearly  concern  us.  It  follows  from 
the  line  of  thought  I  have  endeavoured  to  pursue  in 
these  lectures,  that  only  now  had  the  Church  obtained 
a  position  in  which  it  was  possible  for  it  to  exhibit  in 
the  form  of  a  creed  the  whole  round  of  Christian 
doctrine.  So  long,  e.g.}  as  the  Church  was  occupied 
only  with  Theological  questions — that  is,  with  the  doc¬ 
trines  of  God  and  the  Trinity — it  could  but  give  ex¬ 
pression  to  the  results  attained  in  that  department ;  so 
long  as  it  was  concerned  only  with  Christological  prob¬ 
lems,  it  could  but  formulate  Christological  results  :  not 
till  a  practically  complete  survey  had  been  taken  of  the 
entire  round  of  Christian  doctrines  did  it  become  possible 
to  produce  creeds  embodying  the  whole  Christian  system. 
This  now  is  the  peculiarity  of  the  creeds  of  the  Refor¬ 
mation.  The  Reformation  creeds  do  give,  and  give 
practically  for  the  first  time,  a  survey  of  Christian 
doctrine  in  all  its  great  articles.  Framed  as  they  were 
with  special  reference  to  justification  by  faith  and  its 
connected  doctrines,  they  could  not  do  otherwise.  For 
these  doctrines  look  back  upon  and  presuppose  the 
statement  of  all  the  doctrines  that  precede.  For  the 
same  reason  the  Roman  Church,  in  drawing  up  its 
antithetic  symbol  at  Trent,  found  it  necessary  for  the 
first  time  to  frame  a  creed  covering  the  whole  ground 
of  doctrine. 


i 


We  shall  do  injustice  to  the  Reformers — let  me  say 
further — if  we  fail  to  notice  another  great  fact  about 
these  creeds,  viz.,  their  explicit  reference  to  Scripture. 
It  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  it  said,  that,  while  the 
parts  of  the  Reformation  creeds  which  sprang  from  the 
evangelical  consciousness  of  the  age — the  doctrine  of 
justification  and  its  related  doctrines — are  fresh  and 
vital,  it  is  different  with  the  remaining  parts,  which  are 


THE  CREEDS  BASED  ON  SCRIPTURE 


283 


taken  over  unchanged  from  the  Catholic  tradition.  It 
is  made  a  reproach  to  the  framers  of  these  creeds,  eg., 
that  they  simply  stood  in  the  paths  of  the  earlier 
decisions  on  the  Trinity  and  the  Person  of  Christ,  and 
did  not  attempt  a  reconstruction  of  these  doctrines  in 
the  light  of  the  new  evangelical  principle.1  I  cannot 
agree  that  this  reproach  is  well  founded.2  It  is  the 
case,  no  doubt,  that  the  Reformers  adhere  to  the  older  j 
Church  definitions  on  the  Trinity  and  Person  of  the 
Redeemer,  but  the  reason  is  obvious.  In  the  first  place, 
they  required  these  doctrines  as  the  foundation  of  their  j 
own  evangelical  faith.  A  Saviour  truly  God  and  truly 
man — and  not  less  a  divine  Spirit  proceeding  from  the 
Father  and  the  Son — were  an  absolute  necessity  as 
the  basis  of  their  doctrines  of  redemption,  of  justifica¬ 
tion,  of  regeneration.  But,  in  the  next  place,  they  did  7 
not  take  these  doctrines  simply  from  tradition,  but  1 
accepted  them  from  a  clear  perception  that  they  were  { 
Scriptural  and  true.  No  men  were  less  likely  to  accept 
doctrines  on  the  ground  of  simple  tradition.  They 
swept  away  piles  of  error  which  formed  part  of  the 
existing  Church  system,  some  of  it  of  hoar  antiquity, 
because  they  found  no  support  for  it  in  Scripture.  If 
they  clung  to  these  ecumenical  doctrines  of  the  Son 
and  Spirit,  it  was  because  they  as  clearly  perceived  that 
the  Scripture  taught  them.  And  as  this  was  the  basis 
on  which  their  creeds  were  constructed,  so  it  is  in  fair¬ 
ness  the  test  by  which  they  should  now  be  tried.  We 
may,  if  we  please,  challenge  the  sufficiency  of  Scripture' 
as  a  basis  of  doctrine,  but  we  should  at  least  remember 
that  Scripture  is  the  ground  on  which  these  exhibitions/ 
of  doctrine  profess  to  rest,  and  should  do  them  the 


1  Thus  Ritschl,  Harnack,  etc. 

2  I  do  not  mean  that  there  may  not  be  call  in  some  respects  for  such 
reconstruction.  See  next  Lecture. 


284 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


justice  of  testing  them,  in  the  first  instance,  by  their 
own  claim. 

II.  I  come  now  to  speak  positively  of  the  theological 
developments  which  have  taken  place  on  the  basis  of 
these  Reformation  creeds,  and  within  the  Churches 
represented  by  them.  It  will  be  obvious  that  the 
theological  task  in  this  period  differs  in  one  important 
respect  from  that  of  the  earlier  stages.  Then,  as  we 
have  seen,  many  of  the  doctrines  had  not  been  developed 
at  all,  or  were  only  in  process  of  development ;  now, 
each  of  them  —  eschatology  excepted  —  had  passed 
through  an  epoch-making  phase,  and  the  results  were 
embodied  in  accepted  creeds.  That  work,  already 
done,  had  not  to  be  done  de  novo.  There  might  in 
the  future  be  declension  from  attainments  already 
made,  relapses  into  bygone  errors,  or  revivals  of  the 
latter  in  new  forms,  or  there  might  be  positive  advance  ; 
but  whatever  shape  the  development  assumed,  it  could 
not  but  be  conditioned  by  the  fact  that  the  Church 
had  now  the  whole  range  of  doctrine  before  it,  and 
could  view  the  development  from  the  commencement 
to  its  close.  This  naturally  had  an  effect  on  the  idea 
of  system.  In  the  construction  of  its  doctrines,  one 
by  one,  in  history,  the  Church  was  not  guided  by  the 
idea  of  system.  The  system  lay  in  the  nature  of  the 
case,  not  in  any  perception  of  the  Church  as  to  whither 
the  process  tended.  The  earlier  doctrines  were  not 
framed  with  any  knowledge  of  the  controversies  that 
were  to  arise  later.  There  was  no  call  or  attempt, 
therefore,  to  fit  the  one  accurately  into  the  other,  as 
the  idea  of  a  perfect  system  required.  There  was,  of 
course,  throughout  a  feeling  of  the  unity  of  the  faith, 
which  exercised  a  certain  regulating  influence,  but  it 
could  not  supply  the  place  of  consciously  directed 


RISE  OF  PROTESTANT  DOGMA  TICS 


285 


effort.  Now,  however,  that  a  provisional  goal  had 
been  reached,  there  were  room  and  need  for  a  revision 
and  adjustment  of  the  doctrinal  system  in  its  complete¬ 
ness.  Part  could  now  be  fitted  more  accurately  into 
part,  weaknesses  detected,  modifications  made,  while 
the  new  questions  that  emerged  in  the  light  of  the 
construction  of  the  whole,  or  with  the  further  advance 
of  knowledge  and  thought,  made  it  possible  to  carry 
the  development  further.  I  do  not,  of  course,  mean 
that  systematic  theology  had  no  existence  prior  to  the 
Reformation.  It  had  its  beginnings  as  far  back  as 
Origen,  although  as  a  special  discipline  it  dates  really 
from  the  time  of  the  schoolmen.  These  built  up 
huge,  but  very  imperfect,  systems  on  the  basis  of  the 
Sentences  of  Peter  the  Lombard,  or  similar  works. 
But  at  the  Reformation  it  entered  on  a  distinctively 
new  phase,  corresponding  with  the  greater  complete¬ 
ness  that  had  been  attained  in  the  apprehension  of 
doctrine.  Then,  on  the  ground  both  of  the  Lutheran 
and  the  Reformed  Churches, — but  unequally,  for  the 
Lutherans  of  the  sixteenth  century  did  not  excel  in  ' 
the  systematic  gift,  and  hardly  got  farther  than  Loci ,  ? 
or  topical  treatment  of  doctrines,  while  the  Reformation  ! 
Church  had  a  systematic  genius  of  the  first  order  in  | 
Calvin, — vast  systems  of  dogmatics  arose,  and  started  ? 
a  multitude  of  questions  which  occupied  men’s  minds 1 
with  all  the  keenness  of  the  old  scholastic  disputes. 

But,  besides  these  causes  of  development  in  the 
Church  itself,  there  were  other  and  yet  more  power¬ 
ful  influences  which  came  into  play  from  without,  the 
full  effect  of  which  was  only  felt  later.  I  refer  to  the 
great  intellectual  awakening  which  the  Reformation 
brought  with  it ;  or  rather,  which  began  in  the  revival 
of  learning  of  the  preceding  century,  and  now  received 


286 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


a  mighty  impulse  from  the  mental  liberation  implied 
in  the  Reformation  doctrine  of  the  right  of  private 
judgment.  Everything  helped  to  intensify  this  im¬ 
pulse.  The  past  had  been  laid  bare  in  the  recovery 
of  the  literary  treasures  of  Greece  and  Rome  ;  the  con¬ 
ception  of  the  world  was  widened  by  the  discovery  of 
a  new  continent,  and  by  the  circumnavigation  of  the 
globe ;  a  yet  vaster  expansion  was  given  to  men’s 
ideas  of  space  by  the  promulgation  of  the  Copernican 
theory  of  the  universe.  The  printing-press  had  fur¬ 
nished  knowledge  with  wings  ;  the  era  of  physical  j 
science,  with  Lord  Bacon  as  its  prophet,  was  dawn¬ 
ing  ;  philosophy  was  on  the  eve  of  commencing  the 
mighty  cycle  only  completed  in  our  own  (nineteenth)  \ 
century  ;  society  was  emerging  from  the  feudal  stage  \ 
into  that  of  the  modern  monarchy.  Everywhere  there  — 1 
was  upheaval,  a  shaking  of  old  institutions  and  concep¬ 
tions,  a  setting  free  of  forces,  some  destructive,  others 
wholesome  and  creative.  To  this  new  spirit  of  the 
time,  in  all  its  forms  of  working,  the  theology  of  the 
Reformation  had  to  adjust  itself.  I  think  we  hardly 
realise  the  magnitude  of  its  task  in  comparison  with 
what  we  take  to  be  the  greater  difficulties  of  our  own 
age.  It  was  impossible  for  such  a  process  to  be  gone 
through  without  the  encountering  of  many  hazards, 
many  temptations  to  deflection  on  right  and  left.  As 
little  was  it  possible  for  it  to  be  gone  through  without 
enormous  gain  and  quickening  in  every  direction.  Let 
me  try  to  trace  in  outline  the  path  it  actually  followed. 

V 

A  glance  has  already  been  taken  at  the  internal 
disputes  which  agitated  the  Lutheran  Church  up  till 
the  compilation  of  the  Formula  of  Concord  in  1577. 

In  a  twofold  respect,  apart  from  distinctions  in  worship 
and  government,  the  Lutheran  Church  signalised  its 


287 


THE  LUTHERAN  CHRL^WLOG  V 

difference  from  the  Reformed— UirstJ  in  falling  back, 
under  the  guidance  of  MelanchthoTrf’on  a  less  rigorous,  " 
but,  as  is  generally  admitted,1 2  §.  logically  inconsequent 
view  of  predestination  ;  ancL  second,  in  its  insistence  on 
a  real,  corporeal  presence  oL-Ghffst  in  the  eucharist, 
and  on  a  doctrine  of  the  ubiquity  of  Christ’s  humanity 
connected  therewith.  It  is  to  the  latter  of  these 
divergencies  that  the  peculiarities  of  later  Lutheranism 
specially  attach  themselves.  The  Christology  of  the 
Lutherans,  in  fact,  is  not  an  independent  development, 
but  is  conditioned  throughout  by  the  doctrine  of  the 
Lord’s  Supper.  If  a  real  presence  of  Christ’s  flesh  and 
blood  “  in,  with,  and  under  ”  the  elements  of  the  Supper 
(consubstantiation)  is  maintained,  it  seems  evident  that 
a  ubiquity — -an  omnipresence,  or  at  least  multipresence 
— of  Christ’s  body  must  be  affirmed.  A  doctrinal 
basis  has  then  to  be  sought  for  this  in  the  idea  of  ; 
communicatio  idiomatum ,  or  perfect  participation  of  th< 
humanity  of  Christ  in  all  the  attributes  of  deity,  in 
eluding  omnipresence.  Disputes  inevitably  arise  as  to 
the  nature  of  this  ubiquity,  and  then  we  have  contro¬ 
versies  like  those  between  Brentz  and  Chemnitz — the 
former  upholding  an  absolute  omnipresence  of  Christ’s 
glorified  humanity,  the  latter  contending  for  a  relative 
ubiquity,  i.e.,  a  ubiquity  dependent  on  Christ’s  will, 
though  evidently  this  implies  an  absolute  omnipresence 
in  potency?  A  kindred  controversy  is  that  in  the 
seventeenth  century  between  the  Giessen  and  Tubingen 
theologians  regarding  the  manner  of  Christ’s  possession, 
or  rather  use,3  of  this  attribute  on  earth.  The  Reformed 

1  Cf.  Dorner,  Hist,  of  Prot.  Theol.  i.  401  ;  Schaff,  Creeds  of  Christen- 
dom ,  pp.  314,  33°- 

2  Cf.  Schaff,  as  above,  pp.  290  ff.  ;  Bruce,  Humiliation  of  Christ ,  pp. 
hi  ff. 

3  Whether  surrendered  (kLuctis),  or  only  secretly  exercised  (Kpinf/is) 
Cf.  also  Dorner,  Hist,  of  Doct.  iii.  229-38. 


288 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Church  was  saved  from  these  extravagancies  of  specula¬ 
tion  by  its  more  sober  view  of  the  Supper,  though  it 
leans,  perhaps,  to  the  opposite  error  of  too  severe  a 
separation  of  the  divine  and  human  natures.1  Even 
as  between  the  two  sections  of  the  Church,  however,  it 
is  surprising  to  see  how  largely  the  controversy  resolved 
itself  in  the  end  into  a  matter  of  words.  Pressed  to 
explain,  the  Lutheran  had  to  acknowledge  that  he 
did  not  mean  that  Christ  was  everywhere  present  in  a 
crass,  material  fashion  ;  but  only  that  He  was  present 
dynamically,  in  some  invisible,  incomprehensible  manner, 
in  power  or  energy — in  the  virtue ,  not  in  the  sub¬ 
stance  of  His  body.  It  then  was  not  easy  to  see 
how  this  doctrine  differed  essentially  from  that  of  the 
Calvinist,  who  granted  also  that  Christ  was  present  in 
and  with  His  people  in  the  power  of  His  risen  life  as 
Lord  of  all. 

r 

The  settlement  of  doctrine  on  the  basis  of  the 
Formula  of  Concord  was  followed  in  Germany  by  a 
century  of  almost  undisturbed  Lutheran  orthodoxy — a 
principal  controversy  being  that  of  the  Giessen  and 
Tubingen  divines  on  the  Lord’s  humiliation  above 
referred  to.  This  is  the  period  known  as  that  of  the 
Lutheran  Scholasticism ,  when  theology,  though  cultivated 
by  men  of  marked  learning  and  ability,2  tended  in¬ 
creasingly  to  become  arid  and  formal, — when  orthodoxy 
of  the  letter  became  the  chief  concern,  and  piety  of  the 
heart  was  put  into  the  background  in  comparison. 

1  The  saving  point  in  the  Lutheran  doctrine  is  the  richer  view  of  the 
communion  of  the  natures.  In  it  lies  the  thought  of  the  humanity  as 
receptive  of  the  divinity.  In  these  disputes  Melanchthon  agreed  with  the 
Reformers. 

2  As,  e.g.,  Gerhard,  Quenstedt,  Calovius,  Musseus,  Carpzovius.  In  both 
the  Lutheran  and  Reformed  scholasticism  we  have  an  alliance  with 
Aristotelianism. 


LUTHERAN  SCHOLASTICISM  AND! PIETISM  2 


Yet  here  again  we  must  be  careful  not  to  exagger¬ 
ate.  The  ornaments  of  the  Universities  were,  many  of 
them,  men  of  genuine  godliness  ;  alongside  the  rigid 
Lutheranism  there  were  milder  and  more  Catholic 
tendencies — in  the  Calixtine  school,1  for  example  ; 
mysticism  could  give  birth  to  a  genius  like  the  Gorlitz 
shoemaker,  Jacob  Bohme ;  while,  that  a  warm  and 
living  piety  subsisted  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  in 
those  dreary  days — even  in  the  most  unspiritual  part  of 
them,  viz.,  during  the  Thirty  Years’  war,2  when  religion 
seemed  trampled  under  foot  amidst  the  ruthless 
passions  and  unspeakable  devastations  of  the  time — is 
evidenced  by  the  exceptionally  rich  outburst  of  Church 
Song  which  is  so  strangely  a  feature  of  the  period. 
Many  of  the  most  popular  of  the  German  hymns  well 
up  from  this  unpromising  fountain-head.  Gradually  i 
this  undercurrent  of  earnest  religious  feeling  reacted  on 
a  dogmatic  which  had  ceased  to  minister  to  life,  and, 
ere  the  close  of  the  century,  had  brought  in  the  era  of 
Pietism ,  which,  with  the  devout  Spener  and  the  Bible- 
loving  and  philanthropic  Francke  as  leaders,  and  the 
new  University  of  Halle  as  a  working  centre,  gained, 
after  many  struggles,  a  temporary  ascendency.  But 
Pietism  failed  in  the  long  run  by  reason  of  that  which 
was  originally  its  source  of  strength  —  its  subjectivity. 
Laying,  as  was  “proper,  the  chief  accent  on  personal 
religion,  on  works__of  love,  and  on  the  actual  keeping  of 
Christ’s  commandments,  it  exalted  Biblical  study,  but, 
on  the  other  side,  depreciated  human  learning,  and 
looked  askance  at  doctrinal  theology,  which  had  become 
distasteful  to  it  through  its  barren  subtleties,  and  sub¬ 
stitution  of  orthodoxy  for  life.  This  one-sidedness  of 

1  Calixtus  represented  a  liberal  and  irenical,  if  latitudinarian,  tendency, 
with  a  wide  range  of  scholarship.  He  was  keenly  opposed  by  the  stricter 
Lutherans. 

2  1618-1648, 


290 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


i 


'L>. 


the  movement,  once  the  first  warm  impulse  had  spent 
itself,  brought  with  it  its  own  penalty.  Decadence  set 
in  after  the  death  of  the  leaders,  and  what  had  begun 
as  a  true  work  of  God  became  marked  by  narrowness, 
poverty,  and  jejuneness  of  spirit.  For  the  healthy 
objectivity  of  the  piety  of  the  Reformers,  it  substituted 
a  morbid  brooding  on  subjective  states  ;  while,  in  a 
scientific  respect,  it  could  offer  no  satisfaction  to  minds 
aroused  to  ask  the  meaning  of  the  Christian  doctrines, 
and  their  relations  to  the  wide  fields  of  knowledge 
opening  up  around  them.  It  cannot  be  thought 
surprising,  therefore,  that,  from  thgse  causes  and  others 
to^be^fter wards-.rofe-rmd .  IryhoiEJ3 i e t is m  and  the  older 
orthodoxy,  which  had  itself  largely  become  a  species 
of  intellectualism,  should,  about  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  fall  a  prey  to  the  rationalism  which 
at  that  time  was  overspreading  Europe.1 


From  this  glance  at  Lutheranism,  I  return  to  look 
at  the  stronger  Calvinistic  development.  Calvin’s 
Institutes  were  published  in  1^34,  and  the  Reformer’s 
connection  with  the  city  of  Geneva,  which  speedily 
raised  him  to  the  position  of  theological  dictator  to  the 
Reformed  Churches  in  Europe,  commenced  in  1^36. 
The  extraordinary  grasp,  breadth,  and  logical  cohesion 
of  Calvin’s  thinking  gave  his  system  a  hold  upon  the 
minds  and  consciences  of  men,  which,  in  union  with  the 
more  flexible  type  of  his  Church  organisation,  enabled 
it  to  spread  and  take  root  under  diverse  national 
conditions,  as  Lutheranism  was  unable  to  do.  It 
is  hardly  necessary,  in  a  summary  sketch  of  this  kind, 
that  I  should  enter  on  the  defence  of  Calvinism  from 
the  shallow  and  often  very  ignorant  criticisms  that  are 
sometimes  passed  upon  it.  Enough  to  say  that  it  is  the 

1  See  below,  p.  306. 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  CALVIN 


291 


profoundest  thinkers  and  ablest  historical  students  who 
do  it  and  its  influence  the  greatest  justice.1  I  may  be 
permitted  to  quote  words  I  have  myself  ventured  to 
use  elsewhere  “  Calvin’s  system  is  the  reflection  of 
his  mind — severe,  grand,  logical,  daring  in  the  heights 
to  which  it  ascends,  yet  humble  in  its  constant  reversion 
to  Scripture  as  its  basis.  Mounting  to  the  throne  of 
God,  Calvin  reads  everything  in  the  light  of  the  eternal 
divine  decree.  Man  in  his  state  of  sin  has  lost  his 
spiritual  freedom,  and  the  power  to  do  anything  truly 
good,  though  Calvin  freely  admits  the  existence  of 
natural  virtue,  and  attributes  it  to  a  working  of  divine-^ 
grace  even  in  the  unregenerate.2  )  God’s  providence  is 
all-governing  and  all-embracing,  taking  up  into  itself 
every  act  of  man,  and  every  event,  natural  and  spiritual. 
Everything  that  happens  is  thus  the  bringing  to  light 
of  part  of  an  eternal  counsel.  Whoever  is  brought 
into  the  kingdom  of  God  is  brought  there  by  a  free 
act  of  grace,  and  even  the  passing  by  of  the  unsaved, 
however  mysterious,  must  be  traced  to  an  origin  in  the 
eternal  divine  will.  The  will  of  God  thus  contains  in 
itself  the  ultimate  reasons  of  all  that  is.  It  is  not  an 
arbitrary,  but  a  holy  and  good  will,  though  the  reasons 
for  what  actually  takes  place  in  the  government  of  the 
world  are  to  us  inscrutable.  .  .  .  His  Church  polity 
extended  to  many  countries.  His  system,  passing  like 
iron  into  the  blood  of  the  nations  which  received  it, 
raised  up  in  the  French  Huguenots,  the  English 
Puritans,  the  Scotch,  the  Dutch,  the  New  Englanders, 
brave,  free,  God-fearing  peoples.  Abasing  man  before 
God,  but  exalting  him  again  in  the  consciousness  of  a 
new-born  liberty  in  Christ,  teaching  him  his  slavery 
through  sin,  yet  restoring  to  him  his  freedom  through 
grace,  leading  him  to  regard  all  things  in  the  light  of 
1  See  Schaff,  Swiss  Reformation ,  ii.  pp.  220  ff.  3  Instit.  ii.  2  12-17. 


292 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


eternity,  it  contributed  to  form  a  grave,  but  very  noble 
and  elevated  type  of  character,  reared  a  race  not  afraid 
to  lift  up  the  head  before  kings.”  1 

The  head  and  front  of  the  offending  of  Calvin’s 
system  is  undeniably  its  doctrine  of  predestination .  In 

the  lecture  on  Augustine  I  tried  to  show  how  some  of 
the  objections  to  that  doctrine  might  be  met  and  the 
doctrine  relieved  of  its  appearance  of  arbitrariness,  by 
a  more  organic  view  of  the  divine  purpose.  It  ought 
to  be  noticed,  further,  that,  however  fundamental  this 
doctrine  may  be  in  Calvin,  it  is  brought  in,  not  at  the 
head  of  his  system, — not,  therefore,  in  the  all-dominating 
place  it  holds,  eg.,  in  the  Westminster  Confession — but  j 
towards  the  close  of  his  third  book  as  a  corollary  from 
his  exposition  of  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  % 
regeneration  and  sanctification. 

This  is  true,  yet  in  a  theological  respect,  there  is 
undoubtedly  a  side  here  of  Calvin’s  system  which 
urgently  calls  for  rectification  and  supplement.  Nor, 
from  the  more  favourable  position  we  now  occupy,  do 
I  think  it  is  difficult  to  place  the  finger  on  what  must 
be  regarded  as  its  especial  defect.  That  defect  does 
not  lie  simply  in  the  doctrine  of  predestination.  It 
lies  rather  in  the  idea  of  God  behind  that  doctrine. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  correction  to  be  made  by  a  more 
organic  view  of  God’s  purpose  in  history ;  but  that 
organic  view  already  implies  an  altered  standpoint  in  j 
t|  thinking  of  God  Himself.  *  Calvin  exalts  the  sovereignty  J 

I  of  God,  and  this  is  right.  But  he  errs  in  placing  his  | 
root-idea  of  God  in  sovereign  will  rather  than  in 
love.  Love  is  subordinated  to  sovereignty,  instead  of  ! 

!  sovereignty  to  love.  God’s  will,  certainly,  is  not  with 

1  Lecture  on  Calvin  in  volume  on  The  Reformers ,  pp.  292-94.  Cf. 
Froude  on  “  Calvinism,”  in  Short  Studies . 


CALVIN  ON  DIVINE  SOVEREIGNTY 


Calvin  an  arbitrary  will.  In  the  passage  in  which  he 
speaks  most  strongly  on  the  subject,  he  expressly  re¬ 
pudiates  the  idea  that  God’s  will  is  exlex}  It  is  a  holy, 
wise,  and  good  will — along  a  definite  line,  apart  from 
natural  bounty  and  mercy  which  are  toward  all,  even  a 
loving  will  ;1  2 3  but  love,  in  this  more  special  sense,  takes 
the  direction  which  sovereignty  gives  it — it  does  not 
regulate  the  sovereignty.  ifThe  conception  is,  that  God 
wills,  as  the  highest  of  all  ends,  His  own  glory  ;  that  is, 
the  manifestation  of  His  whole  character,  wrath  as  well 
as  love  ;  and  the  plan  of  the  world  is  directed  with 
infinite  wisdom  to  the  attainment  of  this  end.  Its 
supreme  aim  is,  indeed,  the  salvation  of  those  chosen 
to  eternal  life  ;  but  alongside  of  this  is  the  dark  shadow 
cast  by  the  fate  of  the  others  in  whom  God  is  pleased 
to  reveal  His  wrath.  These  may  be  the  objects  of  the 
goodness  and  long-suffering  of  God  in  other  respects, 
and  their  ruin  is  never  viewed  save  in  connection  with 
their  sin.  But  sovereign  grace  has  not  chosen  them  for 
salvation  ;  they  are  not  the  objects  of  God’s  love  in  the 
more  special  sense J  Now  this,  I  think  I  may  safely 
say,  is  not  a  conception  in  which  the  Christian  mind 
can  permanently  rest.  Our  deeper  penetration  with 
Christ’s  doctrine  of  God  as  love,  as  well  as  the  express 

1  Institutes ,  iii.  23.  2.  “  We,  however,  give  no  countenance  to  the 

fiction  of  absolute  power,  which,  as  it  is  heathenish,  so  it  ought  justly  to 
be  held  in  detestation  by  us.  We  do  not  imagine  God  to  be  lawless  .  .  . 
the  will  of  God  is  not  only  free  from  all  vice,  but  is  the  supreme  standard 
of  perfection,  the  law  of  all  laws.” 

2  Cf.  Bk.  i.  5.  Yet  Calvin  interprets  “world”  in  John  iii.  16,  with¬ 
out  restriction.  Cf.  also  Bk.  ii.  16.  1-3. 

3  I  speak  of  the  iC^ad  impression  which  Calvin’s  system  makes  upon 
us.  If  we  take  into  ac  .  ount  the  position  in  Bk  ii.  ch.  16.  1-3,  we  find 
qualifying  matter  even  as  1  sgard  God’s  natural  relation  to  men.  It  might 
be  shown  that  Calvin’s  vi  :w  does  not  necessarily  negate  that  suggested 
above,  though  it  certainly  roes  not  do  justice  to  it.  It  should  be  observed 
also  that  every  system  ack  aowledges  a  special  love  of  God  to  some,  on 
whatever  ground  it  is  based. 


I 


I 


294 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


testimony  of  Scripture  respecting  God’s  character  and 
love  to  the  world,  forbid  it.  No  distrust  we  may  feel 
of  our  own  reason,  or  even  the  reflection  that  Calvin  is 
only  viewing  sub  specie  ceternitatis  what  actually  happens 
in  time,  will  reconcile  us  to  it.  [  We  are  sure  that  if  God 
is  sovereign,  yet  not  sovereignty  but  love  must  be  en¬ 
throned  as  the  central  principle  of  His  character  ;  that 
as  Martensen  has  said,  “  All  the  divine  attributes  are 
combined  in  love  as  in  their  centre  and  vital  principle.  J 
Wisdom  is  its  intelligence  ;  might  its  productivity  ;  the 
entire  natural  creation,  and  the  entire  revelation  of 
righteousness  in  history,  are  means  by  which  it  attains 
its  teleological  aims.”1  With  this  connects  itself  the 
organic  or  teleological  conception  of  history  of  which 
I  have  already  spoken.  Love  lies  behind  the  divine 
plan  ;  but  even  love  can  only  work  out  its  designs  in 
gradual  stages,  in  harmony  with  righteousness,  and 
with  regard  to  the  laws  of  human  nature  and  freedom. 
Sin  therefore  cannot  be  simply  abolished  by  an  act  of 
power.  It  must  be  allowed  to  develop  itself — to  mani¬ 
fest  its  whole  nature — that  it  may  at  length  be  the 
more  effectually  overcome.  Divine  sovereign  wisdom 
is  exhibited  in  the  determination  of  the  lines  along 
which,  the  persons  in  whom,  the  bounds  within 
which,  this  development  is  allowed  to  take  place  ; 
and  sovereign  grace  is  displayed  in  the  counteracting 
of  that  evil  and  the  carrying  forward  of  the  ends  of 
God’s  Kingdom,  through  nations  and  individuals  pre¬ 
pared  for  that  service,  and  in  due  season  called  to  their 
task.  I  do  not,  therefore,  abate  one  whit  from  the 
sovereignty  of  God  in  the  election,  calling,  and  salva¬ 
tion  of  such  as  are  saved  ; 2  but  I  do  feel  strongly  that 

1  Dogmatics,  p.  99  (E.T.). 

2  Sovereignty  is  here  opposed  to  conditionir  g  or  control  from  without  ; 
not  to  determination  by  righteousness,  love,  and  wisdom  within  God  Him¬ 
self. 


ARMINIAN  PROTEST  AGAINST  CALVINISM  295 


this  election  of  God  must  not  be  disjoined  from  the 
context  in  which  it  is  set  in  God’s  historical  purpose, 
which,  grounded  in  His  love,  embraces  the  widest 
possible  ultimate  blessing  for  the  whole  world.  I  hold 
as  strongly  as  Augustine  or  Calvin  that  only  as  God 
chooses  men  will  they  ever  choose  him  ;  only  as  grace 
does  its  saving  work  in  them  will  they  ever  be  brought 
to  repentance,  faith,  and  eternal  life  ; 1  but  if  God’s 
method  is  thus  necessarily  one  of  election,  it  is  in  order 
that  in  each  soul  saved  He  may  set  up  a  new  centre 
— a  point  of  vantage,  shall  I  say,  chosen  with  infinite 
wisdom — from  which  He  may  work  with  greater  effect 
for  the  accomplishment  of  wider  ends. 

It  was  inevitable  that  the  rigorous  and  exclusive 
aspect  of  Calvin’s  system  now  indicated  should  provoke 
a  reaction,  and  the  danger  was  that  this  reaction,  falling 
in  a  time  of  weaker  spiritual  grasp  and  less  profound 
experience,  should  tend  to  the  loosening  of  the  founda¬ 
tions  even  of  what  was  strong  and  true  in  Calvinism. 
This,  accordingly,  is  what  we  now  see  accomplishing 
itself  in  the  Arminian  protest  in  Holland.  In  Luther¬ 
anism  the  rigour  of  the  predestination  doctrine  had 
been  softened,  at  the  expense  of  logical  consistency, 
under  the  milder  humanistic  influence  of  Melanch- 
thon.  In  the  hands  of  Calvin’s  disciples,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  tended  to  become  more  severe,  exclusive,  and 
unyielding  than  Calvin  himself  had  made  it.  C  With 
Calvin,  as  I  have  stated,  predestination  is  a  corollary 
from  the  experience  of  salvation,  and  so  is  treated  in 
the  Institutes .]  With  his  successor  Beza,  and,  after 
him,  with  Gomar  of  Leyden,  predestination  is  placed 

r  1  The  necessity  for  election  in  the  Augustinian  and  Calvinistic  sense 
results  from  the  fact  that  only  as  divine  grace  renews  men  will  they  be 
brought  to  true  faith  or  repentance.  The  good  will  is  itself  in  this  view  a 
fruit  of  grace.  Cf.  Lecture  on  Augustine. 


296 


THE  PROGRESS  OE  DOGMA 


at  the  head  of  the  theological  system,  and  is  so  treated 
that  everything  else — creation,  providence,  and  grace — 
is  viewed  as  a  means  to  the  fulfilment  of  this  initial 
purpose.  Two  schools  of  opinion  are  now  to  be 
distinguished  among  Calvinists — the  milder,  or  infra- 
lapsarian ,  which,  starting  with  man  as,  in  the  divine 
view,  already  fallen,  regarded  election  as  interposing  to 
save  a  portion  of  the  fallen  race  ;  [and  the  sterner,  or 
supralapsarian ,  which,  mounting  to  a  point  antecedent 
to  creation  itself,  viewed  creation,  the  fall,  sin,  and  all 
events  in  providence,  equally  with  redemption,  as  so 
many  links  in  the  execution  of  the  original  decree  of 
the  predestination  of  some  to  life,  and  the  ordaining 
of  others  to  wrath.  A  doctrine  of  this  kind,  which  bids 
us  think  of  beings  not  yet  conceived  of  as  even  created 
(therefore  onl y  possibles) — not  to  say  as  sinful — set  apart 
for  eternal  blessedness  or  misery,  and  of  the  fall  and 
redemption  as  simply  means  for  effecting  that  purpose, 
is  one  which  no  plea  of  logical  consistency  will  ever  get 
the  human  mind  to  accept,  and  which  is  bound  to  pro-v 
voke  revolt  against  the  whole  system  with  which  it  is  \\ 
associated.^  From  the  first  there  had  been  in  Holland, 
where  the  Church  had  adopted  Calvinism  with  com¬ 
paratively  mild  doctrinal  symbols,  those  who  maintained 
a  protest  against  the  sterner  aspects  of  this  system,  and 
specially  its  tenet  of  predestination  (e.g.,  Koornheert  of  I 
Haarlem,  and  Koolhaus  of  Leyden),  and  these  had  | 
many  sympathisers  and  followers  among  the  laity.  The  j 
individual  in  whom  the  opposition  came  to  a  head  was  I 
James  Arminius1  2  of  Amsterdam  (1588),  a  pupil  of  ! 


1  It  is  right  to  say  that  it  was  the  milder  view  which  was  the  more 
general,  though  the  names  of  Beza  and  Gomar  gave  the  other  considerable 
authority.  We  shall  see  that  at  the  Synod  of  Dort  it  was  the  milder,  not 
the  sterner,  view  which  prevailed. 

2  His  Dutch  name  was  Harmensen.  He  was  born  in  1560  and  died 
in  1609. 


THE  ARM1NIAN  “REMONSTRANCE” 


29  7 


.Beza’s.  Selected  to  confute  Koornheert  on  the  doctrine 
of  election,  this  able  man  was  led  to  change  his  own 
view,  and  began,  though  cautiously,  to  declare  for  the. 
conditionality  of  predestination  and  the  universality  of  ! 
grace.  His  transference  to  Leyden  as  professor  in  1603 
gave  wider  scope  to  his  activity,  and,  his  opinions  being 
spread  abroad  by  his  pupils,  the  Church  was  soon  in  a 
ferment,  which  conferences  and  debates  of  the  leaders 
did  nothing  to  lessen.  After  the  death  of  Arminius  in 
1609  the  party  went  further,  and  under  Episcopius 
presented  to  the  States  of  Holland  (1610)  their  famous 
Remonstrance ,  in  which  they  appeared  as  a  body  with 
a  definitely  avowed  position.  In  its  first  or  negative 
part,  the  statement  sets  forth  in  five  propositions  the 
Calvinistic  doctrines  which  are  rejected  ;  in  its  second 
part  it  gives  the  “five  points”  of  its  own  doctrine.  As' 
compared  with  later  Arminianism,  the  Remonstrance  is 
temperately  worded,  affirming,  e.g.}  the  necessity  of  the 
operation  of  the  Spirit  for  regeneration,  and  for  the 
production  of  everything  spiritually  good  in  man,1  and 
declining  to  pronounce,  as  Arminius  also  did,  on  the 
question  of  perseverance.2 3  As  against  Calvinistic  limita¬ 
tion,  it  declared  for  the  universality  of  the  atonement — 

“  that  Jesus  Christ,”  as  it  expressed  it,  “  made  an  atone¬ 
ment  for  the  sins  of  mankind  in  general,  and  of  every 
individual  in  particular  ”  s — and  by  implication  for  the 
universality  of  grace.  Its  more  direct  antithesis  to 
Calvinism  is  seen  in  its  basing  of  predestination  on  the 
foresight  of  faith,4  and  in  its  declaration  of  the  resisti- 

1  Art.  3.  The  Calvinists  refused  to  consider  this  article  by  itself,  and 
took  it  in  connection  with  the  succeeding  one  on  the  resistibility  of  grace 
(see  below). 

2  By  the  time  of  the  Synod  of  Dort  the  Remonstrants  had  rejected  this 
doctrine. 

3  Art.  2.  The  limitation  of  atonement  is  not  taught  by  Calvin.  v  l 

^  Art.  1.  M 


298 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


bility  of  grace.1  This  last  phrase  is  an  unhappy  one  ; 
for  every  one  allows  that  in  some  sense  grace  is  resistible, 
the  only  question  being  as  to  the  nature  of  the  power 
which,  in  the  case  of  the  regenerate,  efficaciously  over¬ 
comes  that  resistance. 

It  will  be  evident  that  this  is  in  no  sense  a  new  con¬ 
troversy,  but  is  in  principle  a  revival  of  the  old  dispute 
between  Augustine  and,  if  not  the  Pelagian,  at  least  the 
semi-Pelagian,  section  of  his  opponents.  It  is,  therefore, 
not  surprising  that  when  at  length,  after  many  delays,  a 
general  synod  was  convened — the  celebrated  Synod  of 
Dort.  (16 1  8-1619)  2 — it  should  with  practical  unanimity 
condemn  the  Arminian  scheme,  and  frame  its  Canons  in 
the  opposite  Calvinistic  interest.  If  it  condemned  this 
scheme,  however,  it  is  proper  to  observe  that  it  did  so 
in  the  interest  of  the  more  moderate  Calvinistic  view, 
and  not  in  that  of  the  Gomarists  ;  further,  that  while 
connecting  the  death  of  Christ  efficaciously  with  the 
salvation  of  the  elect  through  the  divine  decree,  it 
affirmed  as  strongly  as  the  Remonstrants  the  infinite 
sufficiency  of  the  death  of  Christ  to  expiate  the  sins  of 
the  whole  world.  He  died  sufficienter  for  all  men,  but 
efficienter  for  the  elect  only.3  Seeing  that  the  Arminian 
view  itself  does  not  get  beyond  “sufficiency” — the 
atonement  securing  the  salvation  of  none,  but  only 
placing  all  in  a  “  salvable  ”  state — Dr.  Schaff  seems 
justified  in  saying  that  “  after  such  admissions  the 

1  Art.  5. 

2  It  does  not  enter  into  my  plan  to  review  the  proceedings  of  the  Synod 
in  detail.  It  consisted  of  84  delegates  (58  Dutch  and  the  rest  foreigners), 
who  with  18  secular  commissioners  made  up  the  assembly.  The  Remon¬ 
strants,  to  the  number  of  about  15  (of  whom  only  3  had  been  sent  as 
deputies),  had  not  the  standing  of  members,  and  early  withdrew  under 
protest.  Schaff  declares  that  it  was  “  undoubtedly  an  imposing  assembly, 
and  for  learning  and  piety  as  respectable  as  any  ever  held  since  the  days 
of  the  apostles”  [Creeds  of  Christ,  p.  514).  The  Remonstrants,  of  course, 
judged  very  differently. 

3  Canon  2. 


DECLENSION  OF  A  RM INI  A  N ISM 


299 


difference  of  the  two  theories  (on  the  atonement)  is  of 
little  practical  moment.”  1 


If,  as  I  take  it,  the  Synod  of  Dort  was  right  in 
upholding  against  Arminianism  the  principle  of  effica¬ 
cious  grace,  in  which  lies  the  nerve  of  the  Augustinian 
and  Calvinistic  view,  it  is  equally  evident  that  it  left  the 
real  antinomies  of  the  Calvinistic  system  unresolved  ; 
and,  in  the  unqualified  assertion  of  a  divine  sovereignty 
unharmonised  with  love  to  the  world,  prepared  the  way 
for  renewed  controversies.  The  “  hypothetical  univer- 
salism  ”  of  the  Saumer  school  (Amyraldism) — i.e.,  the 
doctrine  of  a  general  decree  of  salvation  conditional  on 
faith,  with  a  particular  exercise  of  efficacious  grace  in 
the  case  of  the  elect  to  produce  faith — only,  with  the 
best  of  motives,  introduced  a  new  illogicality.  On  the 
other  hand,  while  Arminianism  had  its  relative  justifica¬ 
tion  in  the  above-named  defects  of  the  Calvinistic 
scheme,  its  subsequent  history  showed  but  too  plainly 
the  insecurity  and  weakness  of  its  own  theological 
foundations.  The  lustre  of  its  great  names- — Episcopius; 
Grotius,  Curcellaeus,  Limborch — and  its  elaboration  in 
imposing  tomes  of  the  dogmatic  material,  cannot  hide 
its  flattening  down  of  all  the  great  doctrines,  and  its 
growing  tendencies  in  an  Arianising,  Pelagian,  and 
Socinian  direction.  This  is  specially  marked  in  Cur- 
cellseus,2  but  in  Limborch  as  well  we  have  the  undue 
minimising  of  the  effects  of  sin  on  human  nature,  the 


' 

I 


1  Creeds  of  Christendom,  p.  521. 

2  This  author,  e.g .,  in  speaking  of  the  Trinity,  says,  “  In  what  way  these 
three  are  one,  whether  in  will,  power,  or  works  alone,  or  indeed  also  in 
essence,  it  is  not  necessary  to  define.”  He  reasons  that  the  Arian  view  is 
free  from  the  objections  commonly  brought  against  it,  and  even  the  opinions 
of  the  Socinians,  he  thinks,  differ  little  from  those  of  the  orthodox.  The 
divine  Spirit  that  dwells  in  Christ  is  nothing  else  than  the  divine  nature  that 
Christians  commonly  attribute  to  Him  ( Instit .  ii.  chs.  19-21).  God  was 
able  by  His  mere  nod  to  remit  our  sins  (v.  19),  etc. 


300 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


exaltation  of  man’s  natural  powers,  the  weakening  of 
grace  in  salvation,  with,  in  consequence,  a  precarious 
and  ill-grounded  view  of  atonement,  and  a  reduction  of 
justification  to  a  divine  acceptance,  for  Christ’s  sake,  of 
man’s  repentance,  faith,  and  imperfect  obedience. 
Arminianism  thus  tended  to  a  type  of  doctrine  but  little 
different  from  Socinianism,  for  which  it  prepared  the 
way  in  both  Holland  and  England.1  Wesleyanism,  in  \ 
the  latter  country,  is  sometimes  classed  with  Arminian¬ 
ism  ;  but  it  essentially  differs  from  it  in  the  central 
place  it  gives  to  the  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in 
regeneration.2 


One  doctrinal  product,  however,  Arminianism  had, 
which  cannot  be  passed  over  without  special  mention. 
I  refer  to  the  new  attempt  at  a  construction  of  the 
doctrine  of  atonement  by  Grotius  on  the  lines  of  what 
is  known  as  the  Governmental  theory.3  We  saw  before 
that  the  Reformers  sought  a  basis  for  this  doctrine  in 
that  eternal  law  which  is  one  with  the  nature  of  God  ; 
but  Grotius,  in  harmony  with  the  genius  of  Arminianism, 
shifts  it  from  this  ground,  and  seeks  a  new  justification 
of  it  as  a  governmental  expedient.  So  far,  he  holds,  as 
any  wrong  to  God,  or  infraction  of  moral  law,  is  con¬ 
cerned,  sin  might  be  passed  over  ;  but  the  public  good, 
regard  to  which  is  made  the  supreme  principle  of  the 
divine  government,  requires  that  the  penalties  attached 
to  sin  should  not  be  lightly  remitted.  As,  however,  the 
sinner  could  not  himself  endure  these  without  destruction, 
the  divine  mercy  (or,  as  Grotius  names  it,  God’s  rectoral 


1/ 


1  Cf.  Dorner,  History  of  Prot.  Theol.  i.  p.  427.  On  the  other  hand, 
Crell  in  the  eighteenth  century  adopted  some  elements  from  Arminianism. 

2  Dorner  also  truly  says,  “Methodism  was  on  the  whole  far  more  re¬ 
moved,  as  far  as  saving  doctrines  were  concerned,  from  Arminianism,  than 
from  the  old  Reformed  System”  [Hist,  of  P.  T.  ii.  p.  92). 

3  In  his  work  on  The  Satisfaction  of  Christ. 


“ GOVERNMENTAL ”  THEORY  OF  GROTIUS  301 

wisdom)  devised  that  Christ  should  be  put  forth  as  a  \/ 
penal  example  in  his  stead.  To  the  objection  based  on 
the  innocent  suffering  for  the  guilty,  Grotius,  besides 
quoting  Bible  instances  of  such  suffering,  replies  not 
without  cogency  by  insisting  on  the  peculiar  relation  of 
Christ  to  believers  as  Head  to  members.  The  weakness'; 
of  this  theory  plainly  lies  in  its  reduction  of  the  atone¬ 
ment  from  something  rendered  necessary  by  the  essential  \ 
relation  of  God  to  the  sinner,  to  the  level  of  a  rectoral  \ 
device,  having  no  ground  in  essential  justice,  but  ( 
intended  only  to  produce  an  impression  on  the  mind  of 
the  beholder.  Penalty,  in  this  case,  is  not  conceived 
of  as  something  inherently  due  to  sin — inherently 
deserved — but  as  an  arbitrary  infliction  which  has  for 
its  sole  end  to  deter  others  from  wrong-doing.  Christ’s  | 
sufferings,  in  reality,  have  reference,  not  to  sins  past ,  1 
to  expiate  them,  but  to  sins  future,  to  deter  from  them.1 
This,  however,  is  totally  to  change  the  character  of 
penalty  ;  vitally  also  to  change  the  meaning  of  Christ’s 
death  as  an  atonement  for  sin.  The  first  element  in  ] 
just  punishment  is  that,  apart  from  all  considerations  of 
the  impression  it  makes  on  others,  it  is  deserved — that 
it  is  the  sinner’s  desert,  or  due,  for  his  transgressions — 
and  only  when  this  is  recognised,  and  conscience  sanc¬ 
tions  the  penalty  as  in  itself  righteous,  can  it  produce  j 
the  moral  impression  desired.  When,  therefore,  Christ 
unites  Himself  with  our  race  in  its  condemnation, 
and  stoops  to  death,  it  is  of  the  essence  of  His  atone-  : 
ment  that  He  should  recognise  that  it  is  a  just  judg¬ 
ment  to  which  He  is  submitting  with  us,  and,  as  our  j 
sinless  Head,  in  His  substitutionary  love,  is  bearing  for  • 
us.  The  Grotian  theory  must  thus  be  pronounced 
a  distinct  retrocession  from  the  Reformation  stand¬ 
point. 

1  Cf.  Ritschl,  Justif.  and  Recon.  i.  p.  313  (E.T.). 


302 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


j  As  in  Lutheranism,  so  in  the  Reformed  Church,  the 
/seventeenth  century  is  pre-eminently  an  age  of  scholas¬ 
ticism.  While  England  fell  away  to  Arminianism,  Holland, 
after  the  Synod  of  Dort,  became  increasingly  the  centre 
of  light  to  Churches  formed  on  the  Calvinistic  model, 
and  gave  an  impulse  to  the  study  and  elaboration  of 
theology  which  extended  itself  to  France,  Switzerland, 
Scotland,  and  many  other  countries.  Voetius,  professor 
at  Utrecht  from  1634  to  1676,  bore  a  foremost  part  in 
these  labours,  as  also  in  opposition  to  the  influences 
of  the  new  Cartesian  philosophy,  already  beginning  to 
tell  on  theology.1  As,  however,  we  saw  in  Lutheranism 
that  the  rigidity  of  the  orthodox  dogmatics  evoked  a 
reaction  in  Pietism,  with  its  subjective  and  Biblical 
tendency ;  so,  in  Holland,  a  reaction  in  the  Biblical 
interest  is  witnessed  in  the  school  of  Coccejus,2  who 
helped  so  largely  to  give  to  theology  that  stamp  of 
“  federalism  ”  it  has  till  recently  retained.  The  claim 
sometimes  made  for  Coccejus  of  being  the  founder  of  the 
Covenant  Theology  can  only  be  admitted  in  part.  It  is 
certain  that  the  leading  ideas  of  that  theology  are  found 
in  writers  much  earlier  than  he.3  The  Westminster 
Confession ,  e.g.y  which  is  based  on  the  contrast  of  a 
covenant  of  works  and  a  covenant  of  grace,  appeared 
in  1647,  a  year  before  the  publication  of  the  work  of 
Coccejus  on  the  subject.  In  this  work,  however, 
Coccejus  undoubtedly  gave  the  idea  an  extension  and 


1  The  names  of  Amesius,  F.  Turretine  (of  Geneva),  and  the  elder 
Spanheim,  may  be  mentioned  as  other  representatives. 

2  Professor  in  Franecker  from  1636  to  1650  ;  in  Leyden  till  his  death 
in  1669.  In  other  respects,  e.g. ,  in  strictness  of  life  the  Pietists  had  much 
more  affinity  with  the  Voetians. 

3  It  is  found,  e.g.y  in  Scotch  (Rollock),  German  (Olevianus),  and  earlier 
Dutch  (Amesius)  theology.  As  early  as  1570  Olevianus  (one  of  the  com¬ 
pilers  of  the  Heidelberg  Catechism)  had  published  a  work  treating  on  the 
eternal  covenant  of  grace  between  God  and  believers.  (Cf.  Dorner,  Hist, 
of  Prot.  Theol.  ii.  36.) 


THE  COVENANT  THEOLOGY 


303 


systematic  development  which  raised  it  to  a  place  of 
importance  in  theology  it  had  not  formerly  possessed. 
It  not  only  is  made  by  him  the  leading  idea  of  his 
system  ;  he  has  not  merely  the  general  division  into  a 
covenant  of  works  and  a  covenant  of  grace  ;  but  in  his 
treatment  the  whole  development  of  sacred  history  is 
governed  by  this  thought.  The  covenant  of  grace — 
which  covers  the  whole  period  after  the  fall — has  its 
three  economies — the  Patriarchal,  the  Mosaic,  and  the 
Christian  ;  and  the  history  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in 
the  Christian  Church  is  laid  out  in  seven  periods,  cor¬ 
responding  to  the  epistles,  trumpets,  and  seals  of  the 
Apocalypse.  A  better  known  exhibition  of  the  federal 
type  of  theology  is  that  of  Witsius,  in  his  book  on  the 
Covenants.  No  doubt  there  is  a  Scriptural  idea  at  the 
heart  of  the  conception,  and  it  had  the  conspicuous 
merit  of  introducing  the  idea  of  historical  progress  into 
the  study  of  the  Biblical  revelation.  It  brought  the 
divine  purpose  into  connection  with  time,  and  gave  it 
something  of  that  flexibility  and  movement — that 
dynamical  character — which  we  have  described  as  the 
corrective  to  the  static  conceptions  of  the  eternal  decree. 
At  the  same  time  it  failed  to  seize  the  true  idea  of 
development,  and  by  an  artificial  system  of  typology,  f 
and  allegorising  interpretation,  sought  to  read  back  \ 
practically  the  whole  of  the  New  Testament  into  the 
Old.  But  its  most  obvious  defect  was  that,  in  using 
the  idea  of  the  Covenant  as  an  exhaustive  category, 
and  attempting  to  force  into  it  the  whole  material  of 
theology,  it  created  an  artificial  scheme  which  could 
only  repel  minds  desirous  of  simple  and  natural  notions. 

It  is  impossible,  eg.,  to  justify  by  Scriptural  proof  the 
detailed  elaboration  of  the  idea  of  a  covenant  of 
works  in  Eden,  with  its  parties,  conditions,  promises, 
threatenings,  sacraments,  etc.  Thus  also  the  Reformed 


304 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


theology — the  more  that  it  had  assumed  this  stiff  and 
artificial  shape — failed  to  satisfy  the  advancing  intellect 
of  the  age,  which,  under  the  influence  of  new  philo¬ 
sophical  conditions,  had  already  acquired  a  rationalistic 
bent. 

III.  It  is  to  this  new  movement  in  philosophy  we 
must  now  attend  if  we  wish  to  understand  the  strange 
change  which  passed  over  the  face  of  theology  about 
the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  real 
origin  of  the  movement  goes  a  long  way  back.  The 
awakening  of  the  intellect  in  scholasticism  at  the  height 
of  the  Middle  Ages  was  associated,  at  least  ostensibly, 
with  profound  reverence  for  the  authority  of  the  Church. 
At  the  Reformation  this  bond  was  finally  broken.  The 
revival  of  learning  had  already  stimulated  independent 
thought,  and  had  led  men  back  to  the  study  of  the  old 
philosophies.  The  Reformation  completed  this  emancipa¬ 
tion  by  shattering  the  idea  of  Church  authority,  andv 
establishing  the  principle  of  private  judgment.  Even 
thinkers  within  the  Catholic  Church — as  Descartes 
— felt  the  new  impulse,  and  began  a  course  of  inde¬ 
pendent  speculation.  It  was  in  effect  the  founding  of 
a  new  era  when  Descartes  1  enunciated  as  the  principle 
of  philosophy  the  maxim  of  universal  doubt.  Every¬ 
thing  is  to  be  doubted  till,  in  the  process  of  thought, 
we  come  to  something  which  it  is  no  longer  possible 
rationally  to  doubt.  From  this  basis  of  unchallengeable 
certainty — which  Descartes  finds  in  the  consciousness 
of  one’s  own  existence  ( cogito  ergo  sum) — the  work  of 
reconstruction  is  to  begin,  and  only  such  materials  are 
to  be  built  into  the  new  edifice  as  reason  can  vouch  for 
as  demonstrably  true.  The  test  of  truth  is  the  clear¬ 
ness  with  which  notions  are  perceived  to  be  true,  God 

1  1596-1650. 


DESCARTES  AJVD  HIS  SUCCESSORS 


305 


Himself  is  to  be  believed  in  because  His  existence  is 
seen  to  be  involved  in  the  idea  of  a  perfect  Being 
bound  up  with  our  consciousness.  Descartes  had 
settled  in  Amsterdam  in  1629,  and  his  views  early 
found  acceptance  in  Holland,  and  considerably  affected 
theology,  especially  among  adherents  of  the  Coccejan 
school.  Philosophy,  however,  was  not  always  idealistic 
as  with  him,  nor  was  it  always  found  in  friendly  alliance 
with  religion.  Spinoza’s  massive  Pantheism,  indeed, 
only  became  influential  later ; 1  but  from  the  time  of 
the  revival  of  learning  there  had  been  never  wanting 
a  virulent  and  aggressive  scepticism  —  now  breaking 
out  in  libertinism,2  now  assuming  the  darker  colours 
of  materialistic  atheism.  Against  these  opponents 
thinkers  like  Cudworth  in  England 3  and  Leibnitz 4 
in  Germany  set  themselves,  by  elaborate  argument  and 
impressive  learning,  to  establish  a  rational  basis  for 
belief  in  God  and  in  the  moral  government  of  the 
world ;  while  Christian  Wolff5  and  his  school  went 
farther  in  professing  to  furnish  rational  demonstrations 
of  the  special  doctrines  of  Christianity.  In  view  of 
this  rational  defence  of  religion,  infidelity  executed  a 
complete  change  of  front.  Philosophers  and  divines 
had  demonstrated  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as 
rational  religion.  The  opponents,  as  a  writer  on  the 
subject  has  said,  “  now  adopted  that  system  of  natural 
religion  which  had  been  reasoned  out  for  them  as  their 
own,  declared  its  proofs  to  have  been  always  so  clear 
and  convincing  that  nothing  but  the  artifices  of  priest¬ 
craft  could  have  obscured  them,  and  contended  that 
revelation  should  at  once  be  set  aside  as  a  superfluous 

1  Spinoza  was  born  at  Amsterdam  in  1637,  and  died  at  the  Hague  in 
1677.  He  did,  however,  exercise  a  powerful  influence  at  the  time  through 
his  Tract atus. 

2  Cf.  Calvin’s  conflicts  at  Geneva. 

3  1678.  4  1646-1716.  5  1679-1754- 

X 


306 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


encumbrance  on  its  perfection.”  1  Thus  arose  English 
Deism,  with  its  watchword  of  return  to  natural  religion, 
though  in  its  lineage  from  Herbert  of  Cherbury,2  an 
advocate  of  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas  in  the  previous 
century,  it  can  be  shown  to  have  older  and  native  roots.3 
Deism  was  opposed  in  England  by  the  eighteenth  cen¬ 
tury  apologists,  who  relied  mainly  on  external  evidences 
like  miracles  and  prophecy  ;  while  the  influence  of  the 
movement  spread  by  translations  and  other  media  into 
France4  and  Germany,5  which  were  rapidly  enough 
developing  rationalistic  movements  of  their  own. 

The  result  of  these  various  influences  can  readily  be 
predicted.  The  exaltation  of  reason  in  the  Wolffian 
school  in  Germany  ;  the  chilling  spread  of  Socinian 
ideas  in  Holland  and  elsewhere  ;  the  decay  of  religious 
earnestness  in  Pietism  ;  the  helplessness  of  an  orthodoxy 
which  had  become  formal,  and  had  already  parted  with 
half  of  its  contents  :  all  could  have  but  one  issue — the 
downfall  of  positive  dogma,  and  the  substitution  for  it 
of  that  superficial  philosophy  which  came  into  vogue  in 
the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  chief 
characteristics  of  which  were  the  overweening  con¬ 
fidence  of  the  understanding  in  its  own  powers,  and  the 


1  Bp.  Fitzgerald  in  Aids  to  Faith ,  p.  45. 

2  1581-1648.  His  principal  works  were  published  in  1624  and  1645. 
Lord  Herbert  was  a  correspondent  of  Descartes,  and  his  Deism  was  a 
precipitation  of  tendencies  already  widely  prevalent.  Cf.  on  Bodin  (1588), 
a  forerunner  of  “theological  naturalism,”  in  Ritschl,  i.  324  (E.T.). 

3  Locke’s  influence  should  also  be  mentioned.  Locke,  of  course,  did 
not  grant  “innate  ideas,”  but  he  believed  that  the  understanding  could 
reach  clear  ideas  on  the  fundamental  truths  of  religion,  and  furnished 
even  an  a  prioi'i  demonstration  of  the  existence  of  God.  Deism  in 
England  and  France  followed  his  empirical  tendency  rather  than  the 
bent  of  Herbert. 

4  Cf.  Morley’s  Voltaire ,  cli.  ii.  Unbelief  in  France  was  a  direct  revolt 
against  the  Church  of  the  period. 

5  Cf.  Ritschl,  i.  325,  326. 


EIGHTEENTH  CENTUR  Y  “  ILL  UMINA  TION ”  307 


imagination  that  it  possessed  within  itself  an  ample 
stock  of  clear  notions  on  the  fundamental  matters  in 
religion  and  morals,  rendering  superfluous  the  light  of 
revelation.  In  Germany,  the  effect  was  seen  in  the 
triumph  of  that  popular  type  of  philosophy  known  as 
the  “  Illumination  ”  (. Aufkliirung )  ;  in  France,  the 
sentimental  naturalism  of  Rousseau  and  the  sceptical 
attacks  of  Voltaire  and  the  Encyclopaedists  swept 
everything  before  them.  Positive  theology  was  carried 
away  in  the  current,  the  supernaturalism  of  a  section 
of  its  defenders  forming  but  a  flimsy  bulwark,  seeing 
that  little  attempt  was  made  to  defend  anything  beyond 
the  supposed  rational  content  of  belief.  The  only  cries 
that  had  favour  were  those  of  return  to  nature,  the 
sufficiency  of  reason,  the  perfectibility  of  man.  Nothing 
could  gain  a  hearing  but  what  approved  itself  clear  and 
useful  according  to  the  standards  of  the  hour. 

The  prospect  seemed  indeed  cheerless  ;  yet  in  the 
midst  of  it  all  the  thoughtful  eye  could  discern  the 
“  promise  and  potency  ”  of  better  things.  Reason  could 
not  long  keep  up  this  delusion  of  self-sufficiency. 
There  was  bound  to  come  a  time  of  awakening,  when 
the  hollowness  and  superficiality  of  the  wisdom  on 
which  it  prided  itself  would  be  discovered.  The  craving 
for  return  to  the  real,  for  contact  with  nature  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word,  was  sure  to  assert  itself.  And 
prophecies,  if  nothing  more,  of  that  better  coming  day 
were  not  wholly  wanting.  The  fine  culture  and  genial 
humanism  of  a  Lessing  and  a  Herder  revealed 
tendencies  which  were  bound  at  no  distant  date  to 
blossom  into  new  creations  of  truth  and  beauty.  In 
the  spiritual  atmosphere  everything  was  not  death. 
Wesleyanism  held  a  great  future  in  its  hand  in 
England  ;  and  the  foundations  of  an  evangelical 


3°8 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


dissent  had  been  laid  in  Scotland.  But  even  in 
Germany,  beneath  the  hard  secularity  of  the  surface  of 
society,  a  genuine  piety  was  still  cherished  in  numerous 
private  circles  :  in  characters  like  Lavater,  in  teachers 
like  Bengel,  exercising  a  quiet  but  holy  influence  on 
devoted  disciples,  in  poets  like  Klopstock,  in  communities 
like  the  Moravians,  nobly  represented  by  Zinzendorf, 
a  warm  stream  of  godliness  could  still  be  felt  flowing 
through  the  land.  It  is  not,  however,  till  near  the  very 
end  of  the  century  that  we  see  decisive  evidences  of 
change,  or  that  distinct  transition  is  made  to  the  era 
of  the  great  modern  theological  movement  whose 
pulses  we  yet  feel.  Then,  in  the  downfall  of  the  pre¬ 
vailing  dogmatic  rationalism  under  the  blows  of  the 
philosophy  of  Kant ;  in  the  growing  strength  of  the 
scientific  spirit,  with  its  recall  of  men  to  nature  ;  in  the 
breath  of  a  healthy  humanism,  represented  by  Goethe 
and  Schiller  ;  in  the  shocks  of  the  great  Revolution, 
fraught  with  so  much  disillusionment,  but  prophetic  of 
so  much  that  was  new ;  above  all,  in  the  general 
longing  which  now  began  to  manifest  itself  for  recon¬ 
ciliation  with  positive  Christianity,  and  for  profounder 
acquaintance  with  its  meaning — in  these  and  similar 
tokens  we  mark  the  beginning  of  what  may  justly  be 
regarded  as  a  resurrection-era  of  the  human  spirit. 


X 


Modern  Re- Statement  of  the  Problems  of  Theology 
— The  Doctrine  of  the  Last  Things 
(Nineteenth  Century) 


‘  ‘  And  yet  we  think  it  proper  to  place  among  the  things  wanting  a 
discourse  upon  the  degrees  of  unity  in  the  city  of  God,  as  a  wholesome  and 
useful  undertaking.” — Bacon. 

“Will  it  never  come?  that  age  of  light  and  purity  of  heart.  Never?  let 
me  not  entertain  the  doubt.  Surely  there  will  some  day  be  revealed  that 
eternal  Gospel  promised  in  the  New  Testament.”—  Lessing. 

“  We  must  revert  to  the  elementary,  fundamental,  and  eternally  unshaken 
points,  if  we  desire  that  the  new  generation  should  again  be  fed  with  the  bread 
of  life.” — Vinet. 

“  He  (Pitt)  ruled  during  the  convulsion  of  a  new  birth  at  the  greatest  epoch 
in  history  since  the  coming  of  Christ.” — Rosebery. 

“  Taking  up  its  position,  not  without,  but  within  the  Christian  conscious¬ 
ness,  Christian  theology  has  certainly  the  task  of  recognising  and  pointing 
out  the  development  of  the  general  religious  spirit  in  its  connection  with  the 
Christian  truth  as  personally  apprehended.” — Frank. 


LECTURE  X 


Modern  Restatement  of  the  Problems  of  Theology — The 
Doctrine  of  the  Last  Things  (Nineteenth  Century). 

I  COME,  as  the  last  stage  in  the  long  and  difficult 
journey  we  have  been  pursuing,  to  speak  of  the  remark¬ 
able  renaissance  the  theological  spirit  has  experienced 
in  the  nineteenth  century — of  its  causes,  of  the  shapes 
it  has  assumed,  of  its  results  in  permanent  enrichment 
of  the  theological  system.  There  is  no  mistaking  the 
fact,  however  dimly  at  first  we  may  apprehend  the 
reasons,  that  the  spirit  of  man  was  in  process  of  a  new 
awakening  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The 
influences  we  enumerate  as  causes  are  themselves  in  large 
part  results — the  visible  manifestations  of  a  change 
which  had  been  gradually  accomplishing  itself  through 
several  decades.  In  last  lecture  I  glanced  at  some  of 
these  marks  of  a  transition  period.  Enlarging  the 
outlook,  I  must  now  ask  you  to  take  a  more  particular 
survey  of  the  causes  which  have  principally  affected 
nineteenth  century  theology,  and  given  it  its  character 
of  advance  upon  the  past. 

I.  Europe,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  was 
politically  in  the  throes  of  convulsions  that  upheaved  it 
from  its  depths.  The  French  Revolution,  alike  in  the 
hopes  it  inspired,  the  illusions  it  dispelled,  and  the 
new  democratic  ideals  it  projected  into,  and  made  the 


312 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


permanent  possession  of,  society,  was  the  cause  of 
changes  to  a  degree  which  we  perhaps  still  imperfectly 
estimate.  The  terrible  Napoleonic  wars  following  the 
Revolution,  with  their  sequel  in  the  wars  of  liberation 
in  Germany  in  1813-14,  aroused  in  the  minds  of  the 
people  of  that  country  a  patriotic  enthusiasm  and 
sense  of  unity,  attended  by  a  revival  of  earnest 
religious  feeling,  which  prepared  a  soil  for  new  develop¬ 
ments.  For  a  time,  in  its  recoil  from  the  insipidity 
and  narrow  utilitarianism  of  the  illumination  period, 
and  its  accompanying  better  appreciation  of  the 
achievements  of  the  past,  the  awakening  spirit  took  on 
a  character  of  Romanticism  ;  but  this  was  soon 
chastened  through  alliance  with  the  philosophic  and 
scientific  temper  which  increasingly  gained  the 
ascendency. 

At  the  head  of  the  great  philosophical  movement, 
which  has  had  so  powerful  an  effect  on  theology  in  the 
nineteenth  century,  we  must,  without  dispute,  place  the 
name  of  Immanuel  Kant.  Kant’s  immediate  service 
was  to  destroy  the  superficial  dogmatising  of  the  older 
schools,  and  to  drive  the  human  spirit  back  on  itself 
in  search  of  a  new  principle  of  knowledge.1  If,  how¬ 
ever,  the  pretensions  of  theoretic  reason  were  abated,  it 
was  only  that  a  firmer  basis  might  be  laid  for  morality 
and  virtue  in  the  testimony  of  the  practical  reason  to 
God,  freedom,  and  immortality.  It  would  be  hard 
to  enumerate  all  the  results  that  have  been  gathered 
in  philosophy  and  theology,  as  in  human  thought 

1  It  will  be  observed  how  every  great  era  in  philosophy  is  originated 
with  a  return  of  the  spirit  to  its  own  depths — in  the  “know  thyself”  of 
Socrates,  the  Cogito  ergo  sum  of  Descartes,  the  Critique  of  Reason  by  Kant. 
Even  Locke  initiated  by  an  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  his 
empirical  movement,  which  Hume  completes  by  his  Treatise  on  Human 
Nature. 


KANT  AND  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY  313 

generally,  from  the  fruitful  germs  implanted  by  this 
epoch-making  system.  Agnosticism  and  rationalism 
can  each  claim  Kant  as  their  parent.  But  his  nobler 
service  to  theology  undeniably  lay  in  his  exaltation  of 
the  place  of  the  practical  reason,  and  in  his  conception, 
based  on  its  postulates,  of  the  world  as  a  teleological 
moral  system,  with  God  as  its  author,  and  the  Kingdom 
of  God  as  its  end.1  Kant  himself,  nevertheless,  was 
purest  rationalist  in  his  treatment  of  the  notions  of 
revealed  religion  ;  and  it  may  be  affirmed  that 
rationalism  changed  its  form,  but  not  its  essential 
nature,  in  the  boldly  speculative  systems  of  his 
successors — Fichte,  Schilling,  and  Hegel.  Philosophy 
which,  in  Kant’s  hands,  had  been  severely  critical  and 
ethical,  now,  under  the  idealistic  impulse  which  like¬ 
wise  was  derived  from  him,  ran,  with  these  thinkers,  a 
course  of  unexampled  brilliance.  In  Schelling  it  was 
romantic,  mystical,  theosophic  ;  in  Hegel  it  was 
dialectical,  absolutist,  all-comprehensive ;  but  in  both 
systems  its  vaulting  ambition  overleaped  itself,  and  the 
recoil  was  speedy  and  disastrous  from  the  overstrained 
heights  of  Hegelian  idealism  into  sheerest  materialism, 
and  blank,  avowed  atheism.  A  check  to  this  reactionary 
movement  was  partly  found  in  developments  within  the 
school  itself, — in  the  historical  constructions  of  Baur, 
and  the  speculative  theism  of  the  younger  Fichte  and 
others ;  but  a  corrective  had  specially  been  prepared 
in  the  positive  spiritual  influence  (gained  from  the 
Moravians)  of  Schleiermacher,  to  whom,  with  justice,  is 
generally  ascribed  the  rejuvenation  of  theology  in 
Germany  in  the  beginning  of  the  century. 

Schleiermacher  is  in  a  certain  respect  the  antipodes 
of  Hegel  in  religion  —  Hegel  resolving  all  religious 
conceptions  in  their  essence  into  notions  of  the  reason  ; 

1  See  below. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


3i4 

Schleiermacher  placing  the  essence  of  religion  wholly 
in  feeling ,  and  subordinating  knowledge  to  that  as  a 
secondary  product.  The  crossing  and  interblending  of 
these  divergent  currents  in  various  directions, — renewed 
attempts  at  their  separation  and  again  at  reconciliation, 
— furnish  the  key  to  most  of  the  phenomena  of  subse¬ 
quent  German  theology.  The  “  mediating  ”  school 
which  sprang  from  Schleiermacher  sought  to  combine 
with  his  theology  of  feeling  more  positive  relations  with 
historical  Christianity  and  at  the  same  time  with  the 
thought  and  culture  of  the  age,  and  in  some  of  its 
representatives  (eg.,  Rothe,  Dorner)  displayed  strong 
speculative  tendencies.  The  Lutheran  Confessional 
party,  on  the  other  hand, — unfortunately  stiffened  in  its 
adherence  to  the  Symbols  by  the  forced  union  of  the 
Lutheran  and  Reformed  Churches  in  1817, — while 
sharing  the  common  life-impulse,  associated  with  this 
a  tenacious  regard  (often  more  apparent  than  real)  for 
the  forms  of  traditional  orthodoxy.  In  distinction 
from  both,  the  liberal  or  rationalising  party 1  pro¬ 
claimed  the  supremacy  of  reason,  and  in  its  more 
pronounced  adherents  would  have  no  theology  but 
that  which  unreservedly  accepted  the  “  modern  ”  prin¬ 
ciple  of  the  rejection  of  the  supernatural  in  nature  and 
history  —  in  the  form,  at  least,  of  the  distinctively 
miraculous.  The  later  and  now  highly  influential 
school  of  Ritschl  represents  a  reaction  against  all  these 
forms  alike — against  speculative  rationalism,  Lutheran 
orthodoxy,  and  the  “  mediating  ”  blending  of  theology 
with  philosophy  and  science,  and  aims,  like  Schleier¬ 
macher,  at  again  bringing  about  a  complete  severance 
of  religious  faith,  and  of  the  “  knowledge,”  or  system 
of  notions  resulting  from  this,  from  theoretic  thinking. 
Its  positive  religious  conceptions  it  would  derive,  like 

1  The  Protestantcn-  Verein. 


SCIENTIFIC  TEMPER  OF  THE  AGE 


3i5 


Kant,  from  the  practical  necessities  of  the  human 
spirit,  confirmed,  however,  by  historical  revelation  in 
Christ.  Theology  in  Britain  and  America  has  been 
strongly  influenced  in  the  course  of  the  century  by  all 
these  currents  from  Germany ; 1  and,  though  it  has 
had  its  own  spiritual  thinkers  of  rare  quality  and  force,2 
it  probably  derives  from  this  source  its  chief  modern 
peculiarities.  The  religious  influences  which  have 
done  so  much,  on  the  other  hand,  to  keep  theology  in 
Britain  believing  and  pure,  it  owes  to  its  own  evan¬ 
gelical  revival,  and  to  the  energetic  Church  life  connected 
therewith.3 

Together  with  these  influences  derived  from  philo¬ 
sophy,  it  is  necessary  to  take  into  account  the  not  less 
remarkable  effects  produced  by  the  growth  and  spread 
of  the  scientific  temper.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  to 
the  nineteenth  century  had  been  assigned  as  its  peculiar 
service  in  the  history  of  humanity  the  conquest  of 
material  nature,  in  the  discovery  of  the  laws  which 
regulate  it  in  its  different  departments,  and  in  the 
application  of  these  in  innumerable  ways  to  the  various 
uses  of  mankind.  If  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  cen¬ 
turies,  with  their  revival  of  learning,  invention  of 
printing,  new  theory  of  the  heavens,  and  scientific  and 
philosophical  awakening,  brought  a  trial  to  the  human 
spirit,  how  shall  we  adequately  estimate  the  effects  on 


1  Through  Coleridge,  Carlyle,  Maurice,  etc.,  in  Britain ;  through 
Emerson,  and  other  transcendentalists,  in  America ;  later,  through  direct 
relations  with  the  schools,  and  abundant  translations  of  German  philo¬ 
sophical,  theological,  and  critical  works. 

2  E.g .,  Maurice,  Erskine  of  Linlathen,  J.  M‘Leod  Campbell  ;  in 
America,  Bushnell,  etc.  But  a  German  influence  is  discernible  even 
here. 

3  We  can  hardly  attribute  to  the  Tractarian  movement  in  England  a 
creative  effect  on  theology,  though  latterly  it  has  shown  tendencies  in  this 
direction  {Lux  Mundi ,  Canon  Gore,  etc.). 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


316 

thought  and  belief  of  the  astounding  revelations  of  the 
past  hundred  years,  and  of  the  novel  and  daring  theories 
propounded  as  the  result  of  the  all  but  magical  strides 
made  by  the  inductive  sciences  in  the  same  period  ? 
Indirectly,  through  the  introduction  of  new  factors,  as 
steam  and  electricity,  undreamt  of  in  former  ages,  and 
the  enormous  enlargement  of  the  means  of  intercommuni¬ 
cation,  science  has  inaugurated  an  industrial  era,  and 
given  rise  to  new  social  conditions,  the  pressing  problems 
and  keenly-felt  evils  of  which  create  a  ferment  from 
whose  influence  theology  cannot,  even  if  it  would, 
withdraw  itself.  Theology  cannot,  e.g.>  hold  itself  aloof 
from  the  reconstructive  theories  and  revolutionary  ideals 
of  socialism.  But  beyond  this,  the  scientific  spirit, 
learning  confidence  by  success,  and  perfecting  its  in¬ 
struments  by  continual  thought  and  use,  is  no  longer 
content  to  confine  itself  to  material  nature.  It  pushes 
itself  into  every  department  of  human  inquiry — extends 
its  methods,  eg.,  to  psychology,  to  ethics,  to  religion — 
insists  on  the  application  of  its  principles  to  history,  to 
comparative  religions,  to  the  criticism  of  the  Bible,  to 
the  institutions  of  the  Church,  to  the  growth  of  dogma, 
— -in  short,  will  let  nothing  pass  that  cannot  vindicate 
itself  under  the  most  rigorous  scrutiny,  where  it  does 
not  claim  to  reconstruct  and  transform  by  the  help  of 
its  own  ruling  ideas  :  those,  for  instance,  of  the  reign 
of  law  and  of  continuous  evolution.  The  influence  of 
the  conception  of  evolution,  in  particular,  in  its  appli¬ 
cations  to  organic  nature,  to  society,  to  the  history  of 
religions,  and  to  the  claims  to  revelation  in  the  Israel- 
itish  and  Christian  religions,  can  be  described  as  nothing 
less  than  revolutionary. 

It  is  frankly  to  be  recognised  that  it  is  the  whole 
compass  of  theology  which  is  affected  by  these  new 


PROFOUND  EFFECTS  ON  THEOLOGY 


3i7 


influences.  One  immediate  result  of  the  changed 
stand-point,  and  of  the  vast  increase  of  knowledge 
it  has  brought  with  it,  has  been  to  compel  a  restate¬ 
ment  of  the  problems  of  theology  along  the  whole  line, 
— to  break  up  mere  traditional  acceptance  of  dogmas, 
and  drive  theology  back  upon  its  sources,  —  to  force 
it  to  revise,  re-vindicate,  and,  if  needful,  recast  its 
positions,  even  where  conserving,  as  I  have  striven  to 
show  that  a  true  theology  must,  the  gains  of  the  past. 
Every  one  is  conscious,  in  greater  or  less  degree,  of 
this  altered  temper  and  stand-point  of  the  age.  To 
realise  it  we  have  only  to  take  up  an  apologetic  or 
dogmatic  or  exegetical  book  of  the  seventeenth,  or 
even  the  eighteenth  century,  and  make  the  effort  to 
work  ourselves  back  into  its  thought.  We  are  speedily 
conscious  that,  though  our  doctrinal  basis,  perhaps, 
may  not  be  substantially  different  from  the  author’s,  it 
is  not  thus  we  would  state,  or  illustrate,  or  define  our 
beliefs, — that  the  whole  doctrinal  perspective  and  mode 
of  conception  is  altered,— that  we  are  breathing  a 
different  atmosphere, — that  a  vast  range  of  problems 
has  arisen  for  us  which  were  not  within  the  purview  of 
the  earlier  writer.1  A  world  of  new  conceptions  has 
emerged  ;  a  new  sense  of  historical  proportion  has 
been  developed ;  we  read  the  Scriptures  in  a  more 
natural  and  textual  way,  with  due  regard  to  the  dis¬ 
tinctions  of  its  parts,  and  to  the  progressiveness  of  the 
revelation  (for  this,  in  part,  we  have  surely  to  thank 
the  much  decried  criticism) ;  we  are  touched  insensibly 
by  the  ideas  which  our  minds  have  imbibed  from  the 
study  of  the  sciences  and  our  wider  knowledge  of  the 
world.  Every  part  of  the  Christian  system  is  thus 

1  The  fact  that  we  do  not  feel  this  about  the  Scriptures,  or  do  not  feel 
it  in  the  same  degree,  is  a  striking  testimony  to  their  universal  character 
and  permanent  power. 


3i8 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


touched  —  doctrines  of  revelation,  of  man,  of  sin,  of 
Christ,  of  redemption,  of  the  future. 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  surprising  that,  feeling  this 
change,  many  should  begin  to  think,  as  I  said  in  the 
first  lecture,  that  the  right  thing  to  do  is  to  throw 
away  the  old  theology  altogether,  and  derive  directly 
from  the  sources  a  new  Gospel  in  harmony  with 
reigning  ideas.  The  trouble  is  that  the  “  reigning 
ideas  ”  often  harmonise  as  little  with  the  Gospel  of  the 
sources  as  with  the  later  dogmatic  developments  ;  and 
the  question  with  regard  to  them  not  unfrequently 
comes  to  be,  just  as  of  old,  the  acceptance  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  in  principle  or  the  rejection  of  it.  We  are  not 
in  reality,  however,  reduced  to  this  alternative.  I  have 
not  the  least  fear  that,  amidst  all  this  revolution  of 
thought,  the  doctrinal  system  which  we  have  seen 
rearing  itself  up  through  the  ages  is  about  to  be  over¬ 
thrown,  or  that  any  of  its  gains  will  be  lost.  Confident 
in  the  security  of  our  basis,  we  can  face  calmly  the 
extension  of  natural  knowledge,  and  the  materials 
brought  to  light  by  a  multitude  of  investigators  in  the 
field  of  the  science  of  religions,  and  criticism  of  the 
books,  text,  and  antiquities  of  the  Bible.  My  con¬ 
viction  is  that  the  result  has  not  been  overthrow,  but 
incalculable  enrichment, — a  deepening  in  the  appre¬ 
hension  of  individual  doctrines,  and  a  stronger,  clearer 
grasp  of  the  whole  from  a  stand-point  nearer  the  centre 
of  the  divine  revelation, — a  more  organic  view  of  the 
system,  with  a  better  perception  of  the  closeness  of  its 
relation  to  the  general  scheme  of  the  divine  purpose, 
and  the  laws  and  methods  of  God’s  habitual  working 
in  the  universe.  Without  dwelling  further  on^  generals, 
I  shall  endeavour  to  illustrate  this  statement  by  some 
particulars. 


NEED  FOR  A  NEW  APOLOGETIC  319 

II.  It  is  obvious,  for  one  thing,  that  the  conditions 
of  thought  at  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century  call 
for  an  apologetic  different  in  many  ways  from  what 
formerly  sufficed.  It  is  not  simply  that  the  old 
external  way  of  proceeding  from  miracle  and  prophecy 
to  the  truth  of  revelation  is  out  of  date.  Miracle 
and  prophecy  are  themselves  the  subject  of  keen  dis¬ 
cussion,  and  require  to  be  made  credible  by  vindicating 
for  them  a  place  as  constituent  elements  in  a  larger 
supernatural  scheme.  Neither  does  it  quite  meet  the 
case  to  say  that,  while  the  old  apologetic  dealt  mainly 
with  external  proofs,  the  new  apologetic  stakes  every¬ 
thing  on  Christ.  Christ,  indeed,  is  central  in  any 
adequate  exhibition  of  the  grounds  of  our  belief  in 
divine  revelation  ;  but  even  Christ,  it  may  be  said  with 
reverence,  cannot  be  understood  as  He  needs  to  be, 
if  His  person  is  divorced  from  its  context  in  the  purpose 
of  God  through  the  ages.  We  get  nearer  the  heart  of 
the  situation  if  we  observe  how,  during  the  century, 
thought  has  been  controlled  by  the  idea  of  the  unity 
of  the  system  of  things  of  which  we  form  a  part. 
Philosophy,  science,  theology,  in  all  their  nobler  efforts, 
have  been  at  one  here.  No  conviction,  probably,  is 
more  deeply  engrained  into  the  modern  mind  than  that 
of  the  unity  of  the  physical  and  moral  worlds.  Kant 
gave  the  age  one  of  its  most  fruitful  thoughts  when  he 
affirmed  that  nature  is  not  a  self-sufficing  system,  but 
has  a  moral  end.  The  effect  on  theology  is  that 
Christianity  comes  itself  to  be  regarded  as  part  of  a 
larger  whole.  God’s  purpose  for  His  world  is  one  and 
all  -  comprehensive ;  and  to  understand  Christianity 
rightly  is  to  understand  its  place  in  that  purpose,  as 
exhibiting  its  goal,  and  giving  the  key  to  its  meaning. 
The  new  apologetic  must  adapt  itself  to  this  altered 
stand-point  if  it  is  to  be  really  influential.  It  will  seek 


320 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


to  grasp  Christianity  in  its  widest  possible  relations, — 
as  a  religion,  in  its  connection  with  the  general  philo¬ 
sophy  of  religion  ;  as  historical,  in  its  place  and  context 
as  one  of  the  great  historical  religions  ;  as  a  religion  of 
the  Kingdom  of  God,  in  its  relations  with  social  strivings 
and  the  general  world-end  of  Providence, — and  it  will 
feel  that  its  safety  lies  in  its  doing  so.  It  will  recognise 
that  the  day  of  hard  antitheses  is  passing.  Instead  of 
crudely  opposing  natural  and  supernatural,  it  will  prefer 
to  look  at  their  side  of  relation  and  friendship — to  mark 
how  much  of  the  supernatural  there  is  in  what  we  call 
natural,  and  how  the  specifically  supernatural  is  not 
violently  divorced  from  the  natural,  but  is  based  on  it, 
analogous  to  it,  and  in  continuity  with  it.  Instead  of 
treating  Christianity  as  a  religion  apart  from,  and 
opposed  to  all  others,  it  will  desire  to  find  points  of 
connection,  and  to  interpret  Christianity  in  the  light 
of  the  satisfaction  it  yields  to  the  universal  human 
need.  Instead  of  abruptly  severing  revelation  from 
God’s  working  through  the  ordinary  processes  of  mind, 
it  will  conceive  of  God  as  in  His  essence  self-revealing  ; 
and  will  make  His  continuous  operation  in  nature  and 
in  the  human  spirit  the  ground,  not  of  denying  special 
revelation,  but  of  showing  how  the  gates  of  intercourse 
between  God  and  the  spirit  of  man  are  ever  open, 
and  how  natural  and  indispensable  it  is  that  such 
revelation  should  be  given — God  entering  in  word  and 
act  into  history — if  man  is  to  attain  the  true  goal  of 
his  existence. 

It  is  this  sense  of  the  unity  in  the  system  of  things 
which  will  lead  a  true  apologetic  to  reject  the  support 
sought  by  some  for  religion  in  the  divorce  of  faith  from 
reason,  or,  as  with  the  Ritschlians,  of  “  religious  ”  from 
“  theoretic  ”  knowledge.  Those  who  adopt  this  stands 


ERROR  OF  AGNOSTICISM 


321 


point  would  confine  apologetic  to  showing  the  harmony 
of  the  Gospel  revelation  with  the  practical  postulates 
of  the  moral  and  religious  nature.  But  this,  while  an 
important  part  of  the  apologetic  task  —  one  worked 
with  marked  ability  and  success  since  the  time  of  Kant 
—  involves  an  unwarrantable  restriction,  and  intro¬ 
duces  a  dualism  into  the  house  of  knowledge  which, 
if  conceded,  would  tend  to  faith’s  undoing  by  the 
surrender  of  the  conviction  of  the  rationality  of  the 
universe,  and  of  the  fundamental  Christian  positions. 
It  was  a  true  intuition,  as  I  have  already  granted, 
which  led  Kant  to  give  the  primacy  to  the  practical 
reason,  and  to  base  the  proof  of  God’s  moral  purpose 
and  world-end  on  that  which  alone  can  sustain  it — the 
consciousness  of  moral  law.  But  it  is  a  mistake  to 
seek  to  strengthen  this  position  by  theoretic  Agnosti¬ 
cism.  Hegel  was  right  when  he  affirmed  that  it  is 
only  as  thinking  spirit  that  man  has  the  capacity  of 
religion  at  all  ;  and  if  the  counter  -  theories  of  the 
universe — Materialistic,  Pantheistic,  Monistic — are  to  be 
confuted,  it  must  be,  not  by  handing  over  the  whole 
region  of  the  rational,  or  what  is  called  “  theoretic 
thought,”  to  the  opponent,  but  by  meeting  the  theorists, 
as  the  old  apologists  did,  on  their  own  ground,  and 
showing  that  the  Christian  theistic  view  is  that  most 
in  harmony  with  right  reason,  as  well  as  best  established 
by  the  facts  of  religion.  Philosophical  Agnosticism, 
which  cleaves  to  one  side  of  Kant’s  philosophy  and 
rejects  the  other,  not  only  does  an  injustice  to  that 
thinker,  but  takes  up  an  untenable  position.  It  is 
strictly  a  counsel  of  despair  in  view  of  the  difficulty 
which  history  is  supposed  to  exhibit  in  attaining  to  a 
sure  knowledge  of  God.  That  difficulty  is  exaggerated  ; 
for  surely,  if  we  possess  the  power  of  distinguishing  be¬ 
tween  the  accidental  and  the  abiding  in  religion,  we 


Y 


322 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


must  acknowledge  that  there  are  no  convictions  to  which 
the  human  mind  is  more  uniformly  led, — towards  which, 
amidst  all  aberrations,  it  more  constantly  gravitates, — 
to  which,  in  its  loftiest  moments,  it  clings  with  a  more 
assured  faith, — than  those  of  the  existence  of  a  supreme 
spiritual  Power,  and  of  a  Providence  ordering  the  world 
for  wise  ends.  It  is  in  any  case  of  vital  moment  to  a 
Christian  apologist  to  hold  fast  to  the  truth  that  the 
very  existence  of  religion  is  involved  in  the  idea  that 
God  is  a  self- revealing  Spirit,  who  cares  for  man, 
and  can  enter  into  relations  with  him.  Without  this 
conviction  religion  would  cease  to  exist.  Agnosticism, 
therefore,  is  not  simply  the  negation  of  the  particular 
ideas  men  have  entertained  of  their  gods,  but  is 
the  negation  of  religion  itself — the  dissipating  of 
this  most  universal  fact  of  human  experience  into 
illusion  ! 

An  important  result  of  this  changed  stand-point  is 
that  it  has  become  clearer  that  Christian  apologetic 
can  never  be  satisfactorily  separated  from  the  positive 
exhibition  of  the  Christian  system.  It  is  felt  to  be  hope¬ 
less  to  attempt  to  prove  by  external  witness  the  bare 
fact  that  a  revelation  has  been  given,  and  only  after  that 
sit  down  to  inquire  what  the  content  of  the  revelation  is. 
If  we  are  to  defend  Christianity,  we  must  define  what 
we  are  to  defend.  On  the  other  hand,  when  Christian¬ 
ity  is  set  forth  in  its  completeness  as  a  system, — still 
more  when  set  forth  in  those  larger  relations  I  have 
adverted  to, — it  will  be  found  that  the  work  of  defence 
is  already  in  large  part  accomplished.  Christianity,  in 
short,  is  its  own  best  apology.  The  unfolding  of  it  as 
in  its  essence  embracing  a  view  of  God,  the  world,  and 
man,  and  bringing  a  provision  for  man’s  spiritual  needs, 
in  which  both  mind  and  heart  can  rest  with  fullest 


THE  DIVINE  IMMANENCE 


323 


satisfaction,  is  the  surest  certification  of  its  divine 
original. 

We  are  thus  brought  back  to  the  Christian  system, 
and,  first  of  all,  to  the  doctrine  of  God ,  which  is  ever 
determinative  of  the  real  character  of  a  theology.  And 
here,  I  think,  the  changes  that  may  be  noted  as  wrought 
by  the  modern  spirit  are  chiefly  two — both  important, 
and  of  the  nature  of  advance.  One  connects  itself  with 
what  I  have  already  said  of  the  attempt  to  draw  closer 
the  relations  of  the  natural  and  supernatural  through  a 
more  vital  apprehension  of  the  doctrine  of  the  divine 
immanence  —  to  see  God  in  the  processes  of  nature, 
thought,  and  history,  while  yet  infinitely  transcending 
them — -and  in  this  way  to  find  a  point  of  view  from 
which  a  providential  guidance  of  the  world,  historical 
revelation,  the  higher  plane  of  divine  activity  we  call 
miracle,  and  even  the  stupendous  fact  of  the  incar¬ 
nation,  will  be  rendered  more  apprehensible,  and  be 
shown  to  involve  no  violent  rupture  with  the  natural 
system,  but  to  be  in  continuity  with  it,  and  in  some 
sense  the  completion  of  it.  The  temptation  in  this  line 
of  thought — in  itself  most  profound  and  Scriptural 1 — 
is,  of  course,  to  obliterate  the  distinction  of  natural  and 
supernatural  altogether  ;  to  merge  the  divine  life  wholly 
in  the  world -process,  and  substitute  “natural  super¬ 
naturalism  ”  for  faith  in  a  God  who  has  historically 
revealed  Himself  in  words  and  deeds  for  man’s  salva¬ 
tion.  Against  these  Pantheistic  tendencies  a  sound 
theology  may  be  trusted  to  protest ; 2  but  it  will  not, 

1  Acts  xvii.  28. 

2  On  the  Pantheistic  view  I  have  written  in  another  connection  :  “  Any 
view  which,  under  the  name  of  exalting  the  divine  immanence,  identifies 
God  with  the  process  of  nature — makes  the  world  as  necessary  to  God  as 
God  is  to  the  world — is  fundamentally  irreconcilable  with  a  Scriptural 
theology.  A  God  in  process  is  of  necessity  an  incomplete  God — can  never 


324 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


therefore,  feel  called  on  to  disown  the  side  of  truth  for 
which  Pantheism  is  witness.  “  Natural  supernaturalism  ” 
can  never  be  a  substitute  for  faith  in  the  God  of  revela¬ 
tion  ;  but  it  has  its  utility  in  warding  off  a  Deistic 
separation  of  God  and  the  world,  and  in  reminding  us 
that  the  divine  and  human,  nature  and  grace,  evolution 
and  creation,  providence  and  law,  miracle  and  causa¬ 
tion,  revelation  and  psychological  conditions,  are  not  the 
harsh  antitheses  they  have  often  been  conceived  to  be. 


The  other  change  in  the  modern  way  of  conceiving 
God  I  have  referred  to  connects  itself  with  the  doctrine 
of  the  divine  love ,  and  especially  of  the  divine  Father¬ 
hood ,  as  the  highest  expression  for  what  Christ  has 
taught  us  to  believe  concerning  God  in  His  relations 
to  men  and  disposition  towards  them.  I  have  spoken 
in  a  previous  lecture  1  of  the  difficulties  inherent  in  the 
undue  exaltation  by  Calvinism  of  the  idea  of  the  divine 
sovereignty  at  the  expense  of  the  idea  of  the  divine 
love,  through  its  not  seeking,  as  in  Christ’s  teaching, 
the  interpretation  of  sovereignty  through  love.  It  is  one 
of  the  greatest  advances  of  modern  theology  that  it  has 
so  largely  succeeded  in  restoring  love  to  its  rightful  place 
in  the  centre  of  the  divine  character,  and  so  strongly 
insists  on  the  whole  purpose  of  God — in  creation,  in 
Providence,  in  redemption — being  read  in  the  light  of 

be  a  true  personal  God.  His  being  is  merged  in  that  of  the  universe  ; 
sin,  even,  is  an  element  of  His  life.  I  hold  it  to  be  indubitable  that  God, 
in  order  truly  to  be  God,  must  possess  Himself  in  the  eternal  fulness  and 
completeness  of  His  own  personal  life  ;  must  possess  Himself  for  Himself, 
and  be  raised  entirely  above  the  transiency,  the  incompleteness,  and  the 
contingency  of  the  world-process.  We  are  then  enabled  to  think  of  the 
world  and  history,  not  as  the  necessary  unfolding  of  a  logical  process,  but 
as  the  revelation  of  a  free  and  holy  purpose  ;  and  inconsistency  is  no 
longer  felt  in  the  idea  of  an  action  of  God  along  supernatural  lines — above 
the  plane  of  mere  nature,  as  wisdom  and  love  may  dictate — for  the  benefit 
of  His  creature  man.” 


1  Lecture  IX. 


THE  “ FATHERHOOD ”  <9F  GOD 


325 

this  supreme  principle.  Therewith  is  connected  the 
other  change  I  formerly  referred  to — the  substitution 
of  a  more  teleological  way  of  viewing  history  for  that 
which  made  the  governing  idea  the  election  of  the  indi¬ 
vidual.  It  accords  with  this  that  instead  of  the  older 
rubric  of  the  Covenants — a  covenant  of  works  and  a 
covenant  of  grace — into  which  everything  in  theology 
was  fitted,  there  is  now  a  widespread  reversion  to 
Christ’s  own  idea  of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  as  that  which 
best  expresses  the  end  of  the  divine  purpose,  and  of 
the  general  government  of  the  world.  Here  again 
theology  has  found  a  fitting  aid  in  the  idea  of  the  world- 
aim,  excogitated  (not  without  suggestion  from  Christi¬ 
anity)  by  Kant  and  others. 

It  is,  however,  in  the  prominence  which  has  been 
given  in  recent  times  to  the  great  truth  of  the  divine 
Fatherhood  that  most,  perhaps,  will  be  disposed  to  see 
the  peculiar  character  of  modern  theology.  A  common 
way  of  stating  this  altered  stand-point — one  which  is 
distinctive  of  much  that  styles  itself  the  “  new  theology  ” 
—  is  that  God  is  now  regarded  as  universal  Father, 
whereas  formerly  this  relation  of  Fatherhood  was  limited 
to  believers.1  This  is  taken  to  be  the  essence  of  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  that  God  is  the  Father  of  all  men  ; 
and  the  relationship  of  Fatherhood  and  sonship  is  held 
to  exhaust  the  relation  subsisting  between  God  and 
mankind.  In  this  representation  there  is,  as  I  take  it, 
both  truth  and  error.  It  is  profoundly  true  that  the 
very  core  and  essence  of  Christ’s  revelation  is  His 
discovery  of  God  as  Father.  The  best  exegetical  and 
theological  thought  of  the  age  will,2  nevertheless,  bear 
me  out  that  the  matter  requires  to  be  much  more  care- 

1  In  this  relation  the  Fatherhood  of  God  is  not  ignored  in  the  strictest 
systems. 

2  The  views  of  Dr.  Sanday  in  Hastings’  Dictionary ,  or  of  writers  like 
Lipsius,  Biedermann,  Ritschl,  may  be  compared. 


326 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


fully  stated  than  in  the  above  generalisation.  It  is 
to  be  noticed  that  in  Christ’s  doctrine  the  Fatherhood 
of  God  is  defined,  in  the  first  instance,  by  relation  to 
Himself \  not  by  relation  to  the  world,  or  even  to  be¬ 
lievers.  Fatherhood  is  something  eternal  and  essential 
in  the  being  of  God,  and  its  object  is  the  Son,  the  Son, 
the  only -begotten  Son,  who  therefore  distinguishes  His 
relation  to  the  Father  from  that  of  every  other  as  primal 
and  incommunicable.  It  is  in  relation  to  the  only- 
begotten  Son  that  we  find,  so  to  speak,  the  spring  of 
Fatherhood  in  the  heart  of  God.  In  the  next  place, 
Christ  extends  this  relation  of  sonship  to  all  the 
members  of  His  kingdom.  The  kingdom  is  the  sphere 
of  God’s  fatherly  love  and  rule,  and  those  within  it  are 
summoned  to  cherish  the  filial  spirit,  and  to  call  on 
God  and  trust  Him  as  Father.  But  this  relationship  is 
not  one  of  mere  nature  ;  it  is  a  high  privilege  of  grace, 
the  result  of  a  divine  adoption,  and  of  the  impartation 
of  a  new  supernatural  life.1  Even  this,  however,  does 
not  exhaust  Christ’s  doctrine  of  the  divine  Fatherhood. 
It  is  an  indubitable  part  of  His  Gospel,  on  which 
modern  theology  does  well  to  lay  stress,  that  there  is  a 
divinely-related  element  in  every  human  soul,  even  in 
the  worst ;  that  man  was  made  in  God’s  image,  and 
that  it  lay  in  his  original  calling  and  destination,  even 
by  creation,  to  be  a  son  of  God.2  That  destiny  he  has 
frustrated,  has  turned  his  back  upon  it,  has  forfeited  it 
through  sin,  and  it  can  only  be  restored  to  him  through 

1  Cf.  John  i.  12,  13. 

2  I  cannot,  therefore,  agree  with  the  late  Dr.  R.  Candlish,  in  his  book 
on  The  Fatherhood  of  God,  in  holding  that  man’s  relation  to  God  in  creation 
was  a  purely  legal  and  servile  one.  It  can  hardly  be  questioned  that,  even 
on  the  footing  of  creation,  man  was  constituted  by  God  for  the  filial  rela¬ 
tion.  It  was  God’s  design  for  man,  whether  it  could  be  immediately 
realised  or  not,  that  he  should  grow  up  into  that  knowledge  of  Himself, 
and  that  love,  trust,  and  freedom  of  intercourse,  which  we  describe  as  the 
relation  of  sonship. 


DOCTRINES  OF  MAN  AND  SIN 


327 


grace.  God’s  fatherly  heart,  however, still  yearns  over  him, 
and  seeks  to  draw  him  to  itself ;  and  on  the  ground  of 
that  original  destination,  now  re-opened  to  him  in  Christ, 
the  veriest  sinner,  when  he  comes  to  himself,  can  return 
and  say,  “  My  Father.”  1  Only,  the  grace  that  restores 
him  does  infinitely  more  than  simply  carry  through  the 
original  purpose  of  his  creation.  It  bestows  on  him, 
through  Christ,  a  relation  of  privilege,  dignity,  and 
blessedness,  which,  on  the  footing  of  creation,  he  could 
never  have  attained.  Thus,  it  seems  to  me,  something 
like  the  fulness  of  Christ’s  teaching  on  the  divine  Father¬ 
hood  is  reached,  and  the  different  aspects  of  that 
doctrine  are  harmonised. 

Leaving  aside  for  the  present  the  question  as  to 
whether  Fatherhood  in  God  sublates  what  may  be 
called  the  juridical  or  governmental  aspects  of  the 
divine  character,  I  proceed  to  glance  at  how  modern 
thought  has  affected  the  doctrines  of  man  and  sin. 
That  these  also  have  been  profoundly  influenced,  there 
can  be  no  question,  and  this  in  two  rather  opposite 
directions,  On  the  one  hand,  the  trend  of  the  higher 
philosophy,  in  laying  stress  on  the  dignity  of  man  as 
rational,  self-conscious  spirit,  and  on  his  kindredness 
therein  to  the  divine,  has  aided  theology  by  correcting 
the  tendency  in  older  speculation  to  hold  God  and 
man  too  far  apart,  and  to  regard  them  as  wholly  dis¬ 
parate  in  nature.  Here  also  we  see  the  tendency  to 
break  down  antagonisms,  and  conciliate  such  opposites 
as  finite  and  infinite,  the  divine  and  human.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  scientific  doctrine  of  evolution,  in  seeking  an 
origin  of  man  from  lower  forms,  and  starting  him  off  in 
mental  and  moral  equipment  but  one  degree  removed 
from  the  brutes,  has,  on  the  face  of  it,  serious  con- 

1  Cf.  Luke  xv.  18. 


328 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


sequences  for  the  whole  scriptural  doctrine  of  man,  and 
for  the  doctrines  of  sin  and  redemption  which  depend 
on  that.  It  is  not  simply  the  Augustinian — or  shall  I 
say,  the  Biblical — doctrines  of  a  fall  from  original 
purity,  and  an  inherited  depravity  and  death  of  the 
race,  which  are  imperilled  ;  but  the  whole  Christian 
conception  of  sin,  as  something  abnormal,  perverted, 
voluntary,  in  man’s  development — something  absolutely 
opposed  to  God’s  holiness,  and  involving  man  in  spiritual 
and  eternal  ruin — is  put  in  jeopardy.  Man,  on  the  new 
reading,  is  not  a  fallen  being,  but  is  in  process  of  ascent ; 
he  deserves,  not  blame,  but,  on  the  whole,  praise,  that 
he  has  done  so  marvellously  well,  considering  the  dis¬ 
advantageous  circumstances  in  which  he  started  ;  the 
doctrines  of  redemption  associated  with  the  older  view 
— atonement,  regeneration,  justification,  sanctification, 
resurrection — have  no  longer  any  place,  or  change 
their  meaning.  There  are  those  who,  under  the 
influence  of  the  modern  spirit,  cheerfully  face  these 
consequences,  and  even  think  them  a  gain.  Un¬ 
fortunately,  the  elements  it  is  proposed  to  dispense 
with — the  sense  of  sin  and  guilt,  the  pain  of  spiritual 
bondage,  the  war  between  flesh  and  spirit,  recognised 
as  evil  in  the  self-condemnation  and  shame  that  attend 
it,  the  craving  for  atonement,  the  felt  need  of  regenera¬ 
tion,  the  consciousness  of  forgiveness  and  renewal — are 
not  simply  so  interwoven  with  the  texture  of  Scripture 
that  to  part  with  them  is  virtually  to  give  up  Christian 
theology  altogether,  but  are  parts  of  an  actual  human 
experience  that  cannot  be  blotted  out  of  existence,  or 
dismissed  from  consideration,  even  to  suit  the  require¬ 
ments  of  a  modern  scientific  hypothesis.  I  do  not 
wish  unduly  to  dogmatise,  but  I  must  frankly  confess, 
after  repeated  and  prolonged  deliberation,  that  were  I 
to  adopt  the  views  in  question,  I  should  feel  myself  face 


EVOLUTION  AND  MANS  ^ORIGIN 


329 


to  face  with  an  antinomy  beyond  my  power  to  solve. 
But  I  cannot  acknowledge  that  the  state  of  the  facts 
places  us  in  any  such  dilemma.  Evolution  is  a  theory 
which,  within  certain  limits,  is  supported  by  an  accumu¬ 
lation  of  evidences  that,  to  the  modern  scientific  mind, 
makes  its  acceptance  inevitable.  But  evolution  has  its 
limits  ;  it  does  not  explain  everything.  Above  all,  it 
does  not  explain  origins.  It  has  not  yet  even  mastered 
the  factors  which  explain  change.  I  believe  I  am 
warranted  in  saying  that,  up  to  the  present  moment, 
within  the  limits  in  which  it  has  been  scientifically 
justified,  the  doctrine  of  evolution  imposes  on  us  no 
obligation  to  think  of  man  otherwise  than  as  a  special 
product  of  divine  wisdom  and  power  ;  not  that 
natural  factors  did  not  co-operate  in  his  origination,  or 
that  he  does  not  stand  in  genetic  connection  with  the 
organic  past, — everything  supports  that  view, —  but  that 
with  his  advent  there  was  a  new  appearance  on  the 
earth,  the  entrance  of  a  rational  and  moral  agent,  who 
bore  on  his  soul  the  print  of  the  divine  image,  and  who, 
for  aught  that  science  can  adduce  to  the  contrary,  may 
have  been  as  pure  in  nature,  and  have  stood  in  as  close 
and  conscious  relations  with  his  Maker,  as  the  most 
orthodox  theory  can  require.1  With  man’s  appearance 
at  the  head  of  the  organic  world,  a  new  moral  and 
spiritual  kingdom  was  founded.  Who  that  believes 
that  in  the  humanity  thus  introduced  lay  the  “  promise 
and  potency  ”  of  the  incarnation,  will  think  it  strange 
that  a  special  creative  act  was  involved  in  the  founding 
of  it  ?  I  venture  to  assert  that  even  in  a  scientific 

1  The  alternative  of  “  evolution  ”  and  “special  creation,”  as  commonly 
presented,  is  precisely  another  instance  of  those  seeming  oppositions  which 
it  is  the  merit  of  modern  thought  to  enable  us  to  reconcile  ;  for  evolution 
is  not  incompatible  with  creative  origins,  but  is  studded  with  them  all 
along  the  line — is,  indeed,  in  constant  process  of  bringing  to  light  new 
potencies. 


330 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGAfA 


regard  the  introduction  of  the  first  human  pair  upon 
the  globe  is  every  whit  as  great  a  mystery  of  the 
laboratory  of  nature  as  before  evolution  was  heard  of.1 
In  other  respects  the  peculiar  contributions  of  modern 
thought — eg.,  in  the  doctrine  of  heredity,  and  the 
greater  stress  laid  on  the  organic  constitution  of  the 
race,  with  the  deepened  sense  of  the  evil  and  misery  of 
the  world  which  marks  the  close  of  the  century,  and 
finds  philosophical  expression  in  Pessimism — have  not 
been  unfavourable  to  the  Christian  doctrine  of  sin,  but 
have  furnished  important  corroborations  and  elucida¬ 
tions  of  it. 

The  order  of  thought  leads  me  next  to  speak  of  the 
gains  the  modern  age  has  reaped  in  the  department 
of  Christology .  Here  also,  as  was  inevitable,  there  has 
been  a  keen  sifting  of  older  decisions  ;  revivals,  too,  of 
antiquated  and  exploded  errors,  often  as  if  they  were  dis¬ 
coveries  of  the  newest  brand  ;  attempts  at  reconstruction 
which  have  ended  in  failure.  But  there  have  been  rich 
advances  as  well.  From  both  sides  we  find  the  problem 
of  Christ’s  Person  approached — both  from  the  side  of 

i 

the  divinity  and  from  the  side  of  the  humanity — the 
general  object  being,  in  consonance  with  the  tendency 
to  conciliation,  to  find  a  synthesis  which  will  enable  us 
to  grasp  both  in  a  more  living  unity  than  was  attainable 
in  the  old  doctrine. 

Germany  has  been  the  special  field  of  attempted 
reconstructions  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ. 
In  the  Hegelian  and  other  speculative  Christologies  we 

1  I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  enter  into  other  anthropological 
questions,  those,  e.g.,  connected  with  the  antiquity  of  man,  and  fetish 
and  other  theories  of  the  origin  of  religion.  My  views  on  these  subjects  may 
be  seen  in  my  Christian  View  of  God  and  the  World ,  the  positions  in  which 
1  have  not  seen  reason  to  modify. 


MODERN  CHRIS  T OL  O  GIE S 


33i 


have  the  endeavour  to  construe  the  divinity  of  Christ 
though  the  assertion  of  the  metaphysical  identity  of  the 
divine  and  human.  The  true  incarnation  is  in  the  race  ; 
Christ  is  the  individual  in  whose  consciousness  the  unity 
of  God  and  man  is  first  religiously  apprehended.  This 
theory  of  a  universal  incarnation  can  be  regarded  in  two 
ways  ; — either,  pantheistically,  as  a  denial  of  a  true 
personality  in  God,  who  first  attains  consciousness  of 
Himself  in  the  consciousness  of  Man  ;  or  as  the  affirma¬ 
tion  that  humanity  in  its  essence  is  grounded  in  God, 
while  unfolding  itself  in  a  world  of  finite  personalities, 
of  whom  Christ  is  one.  In  neither  form  can  believing 
theology  accept  it  as  a  substitute  for  its  own  assertion 
of  a  personal  incarnation  of  the  divine  Word  in  the  one 
Lord  Jesus,  in  whom  “  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  bodily,” 1 — who  is  (or  in  whom  we  possess) 
“  the  true  God  and  eternal  life.”  2  None  the  less  has  the 
idealistic  philosophy  done  abiding  service  in  emphasising 
that  essential  kinship  of  the  divine  and  human  which 
is  the  basis  of  a  sound  theology  of  the  incarnation  ; 
and  in  representing  the  union  of  Godhead  and  humanity 
in  Christ  as  the  climax  of  that  ever  more  perfect 
revelation  of  God  in  the  finite  which  we  see  taking 
place  in  nature  and  history.  With  this  connects  itself 
the  Christian  doctrine  that  the  Son  is  the  apxv  (origina¬ 
tive  principle)  and  reXo?  (end)  of  creation — “  the  image 
of  the  invisible  God,  the  first-born  of  all  creation  ” — and 
that  “in  Him  all  things  consist”  (hold  together).3 
Schleiermacher,  from  another  side,  thought  to  secure  “  a 

1  Col.  ii.  9. 

2  I  John  v.  20.  The  best  scholars  take  “the  true  God”  as  re¬ 
ferring  to  the  Father  (“Him  that  is  true”),  but  the  sense  is  still,  in 
Westcott’s  words,  “this  One  who  is  true,  who  is  revealed  through  and  fn 
His  Son,  with  whom  we  are  united  by  His  Son  ”  (“  in  Him  .  .  .  even  in 
His  Son  Jesus  Christ”). 

3  Col.  i.  15-17  :  cf.  John  i.  3,  4  ;  Rev.  iii.  14. 


332 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


peculiar  being  of  God  ”  in  Christ,  adequate  to  the 
Christian  verity,  by  recognising  in  Him  the  perfect 
supremacy  of  that  divine  element  (“  God-consciousness  ”) 
which  is  present  in  germinal  form  in  every  human 
personality,  but  only  in  Christ  attains  to  full  strength 
and  rule.  Christ  is  thus  at  once  Son  of  God  (in  the 
perfection  of  His  sinless,  filial  consciousness)  and 
archetypal  man.  Manifestly,  this  does  not  take  us 
beyond  an  ideal  manhood  ;  still  it  lays  hold  of  the  fact 
that  receptivity  for  the  divine  belongs  to  the  true  idea 
of  humanity,  and  that  the  entrance  of  God  in  His  fulness 
into  humanity  does  not  detract  from  its  integrity  or 
perfection,  but  is  the  raising  of  it  to  its  ideal  potency. 
And  it  is  much  to  have  it  affirmed  that  in  Christ  in 
some  form  that  fulness  was  present.  Even  the  theo¬ 
logians  of  the  liberal  school  (e.g.,  Biedermann,  Lipsius, 
Pfleiderer),  with  their  acknowledgment  that  in  Christ 
we  have  the  revelation  of  the  absolute  “  principle  ”  of 
religion — a  “  principle,”  however,  which  they  carefully 
distinguish  from  the  personality  that  is  the  bearer  of  it 
— afford  a  striking  testimony  to  the  unique  and  world- 
historical  importance  of  Christ’s  Person,  and  seize  a 
central  fact  in  Christ’s  consciousness  (His  knowledge  of 
Himself  through  his  filial  consciousness  as  Founder  of 
the  Kingdom  of  God).  More  recently  we  have  the 
attempt  in  the  Ritschlian  teaching  to  disencumber 
Christology  from  all  “  theoretic  ”  affirmations  about 
Christ’s  Person,  and  to  give  a  purely  “  religious  ”  sense 
to  the  term  “  Godhead  ”  ;  with  the  effect  that  the  real 
knot  of  the  Christological  problem  is  not  untied,  but 
only  evaded.  No  embargo  of  this  kind  can  long 
restrain  intellect  from  putting  its  old  questions  as  to 
the  real  nature  and  rank  of  the  being  to  whom  it  is 
asked  to  give  its  “  religious  ”  confidence  and  homage. 
But  Ritschlianism  has  its  merit  in  recalling  men’s  minds 


GAINS  OF  MODERN  VIEW 


333 


from  speculative  and  scholastic  subtleties  to  the 
historical  revelation  of  God  in  Christ,  by  which  all 
Christological  theories  must  ultimately  be  tested,  and 
takes  high  ground  in  its  recognition  of  Christ  as  the 
spiritual  Founder  and  Head  of  the  Kingdom  of  God, 
who  stands  in  perfect  solidarity  of  will  and  purpose 
with  God,  and  gives  assurance  of  His  grace. 

The  gain,  then,  from  these  endeavours  is,  that 
whereas  the  old  Church  doctrine  approached  the 
subject  of  Christology  predominantly  from  the  side  of 
the  opposite  predicates  of  the  two  natures,  modern 
theology  approaches  it  from  the  side  of  the  receptive¬ 
ness  of  humanity  for  the  divine  ;  of  the  natural  ground¬ 
ing  of  the  Spirit  of  Man  in  the  divine  Logos  ;  of  a 
union  of  God  with  humanity  which  does  not  make 
humanity  less  human  because  it  participates  in  the 
divine.  Once  started  on  this  line,  it  is  felt  to  be,  not  a 
contradiction,  but  a  consummation  of  the  relation  of 
God  to  Man  grounded  in  creation,  that  the  union  should 
become  personal  —  the  Eternal  Son  appropriating  a 
perfect  humanity  to  Himself,  and  making  it  the  organ  of 
His  divine-human  manifestation.  So  far,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  these  reconstructions  stop  short  of  this  personal 
entrance  of  God  into  humanity,  and  leave  us  only  with 
a  divinely -constituted,  supremely-endowed,  and  God- 
revealing  Man,  they  have,  I  submit,  in  principle  been 
already  left  behind.  They  do  not  satisfy  the  needs  of 
faith,  fall  far  short  of  the  Apostolic  Gospel,  are  in¬ 
sufficient  for  the  ends  of  our  redemption.  They  emerge 
in  theories  and  schools,  but  as  yet  have  not  gained  any 
footing  in  dogmatic  formulations — are,  indeed,  as 
emphatically  disavowed  by  the  general  Church  con¬ 
sciousness  as  ever. 


This  conclusion  is  confirmed  if  we  turn,  next,  to  the 


334 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


attempts  that  have  been  made  to  reconstruct  the  con¬ 
ception  of  Christ  from  the  historical  side.  The  gain 
here  also  has  been  very  great.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  a  certain  docetic  element  continued  to  cling  to  the 
orthodox  conception  of  the  Person  of  Christ,  as  it  came 
from  the  hands  of  the  Councils.  The  necessary  stress 
laid  in  the  early  controversies  on  the  divine  side  of  this 
“  mystery  of  godliness  ”  tended  to  overshadow,  and  in 
important  respects,  even,  almost  to  suppress,  the  human 
side.  The  reality  and  integrity  of  Christ’s  humanity 
were  confessed  in  doctrine,  but  were  not  distinctly 
realised  in  fact.  Start  was  made  from  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity, — from  the  internal  relations  of  the  Godhead, 
— and  from  this  there  was  descent,  through  the  act  of 
incarnation,  to  a  Person  at  once  divine  and  human. 
But  this  Person  was  not  set  in  the  frame  of  a  truly 
human  life.  Little  was  conceded  to  the  growth  or 
development  of  Christ’s  human  consciousness  ;  He  was 
conceived  of  as  possessing,  even  as  man,  the  attributes 
of  omniscience  and  omnipotence  ;  if  He  refrained  from 
the  exercise  of  these  attributes,  it  was  voluntarily,  from 
respect  to  the  limitations  imposed  on  Him  by  His 
Father’s  will.  Christ’s  life,  on  its  historical  side, 
accordingly,  awakened,  down  almost  to  our  own  day, 
a  comparatively  feeble  interest.  Intense  pathos,  indeed, 
attached  to  His  death  on  the  Cross  of  shame  ;  and 
liveliest  exultation  was  felt  at  His  resurrection  on 
the  third  day.  But  even  here  it  was  not  the  historical 
circumstances,  or  inner  spirit,  of  these  sufferings,  so 
much  as  their  theological  significance,  which  arrested 
attention  and  evoked  discussion.  It  will  not  be  denied 
that  the  historical,  scientific  spirit  of  modern  times  has 
done  much  to  rectify  this  one-sidedness,  and  to  give  us 
the  impression  of  a  human  Christ,  as  the  world  has 
never  possessed  it  since  the  days  of  the  first  generation 


MODERN  “LIVES”  OF  CHRIST 


335 


of  believers.  The  attempt,  it  is  granted,  has  often 
resulted  in  an  opposite  one-sidedness.  Putting  theology 
aside,  the  frank  aim  of  the  historical  spirit  was,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  see  Christ  with  the  eyes  of  the  men 
and  women  of  His  own  day,  and  to  explain  Him,  as 
far  as  possible,  out  of  natural  factors.  Discarding  the 
“  legend  ”  of  the  Virgin-birth,  it  pictured  Him  as  the 
Son  of  Joseph  and  Mary  of  Nazareth,  as  the  preacher 
of  Galilee,  as  the  prophet  of  righteousness  to  a  formal 
and  unspiritual  age.  It  tried  to  get  into  His  conscious¬ 
ness  ;  to  re-think  His  thoughts  ;  to  set  Him  in  the 
fullest  light  of  His  environment.  It  sought  to  account 
for  Him  through  His  surroundings,  or  on  principles  of 
evolution.  But  it  has  failed.  “  Lives  ”  of  Christ  have 
been  written  from  every  possible  point  of  view,  but 
none  of  them  has  solved  the  enigma.  The  nearer  men 
have  got  to  Christ,  the  more  microscopically  they 
have  studied  Him,  the  more  have  they — or  the  age 
for  which  they  wrote — been  compelled  to  stand  back 
with  awe,  and  say  with  the  centurion,  “  Truly  this  man 
was  the  Son  of  God  ”  ! 1  His  unique  self-conscious¬ 
ness,  His  flawless  character,  His  words  and  works  of 
majesty  and  power,  His  entire  oneness  with  the  P'ather 
in  knowledge,  will,  and  aim,  the  grace  and  truth  that 
dwelt  in  Him — a  “  glory  as  of  the  only-begotten  of 
the  Father”2 — His  death  of  voluntary  surrender,  the 
new  life  in  which  He  rose,  permit  no  other  conclusion. 
Unbelief  dashes  itself  against  this  stone  in  vain.  The 
cry,  “  Back  to  the  historic  Christ  ”  has  corrected  its 
own  errors,  or  is  in  process  of  doing  so. 

The  gain,  therefore,  of  the  whole  movement  has 
been  that  of  faith.  Christ  is  restored  to  us  a  more 
truly  human  Person,  yet  a  more  divine.  The  effect  on 
1  Mark  xv.  39.  2  John  i.  14. 


336 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  method  of  theology  has  been  marked.  Instead  of 
starting  with  the  Trinity — which  we  can  only  know 
as  it  grows  out  of  the  historic  revelation — we  begin 
with  the  earthly  manifestation  of  Christ,  and  ascend  to 
the  Trinity  as  the  only  admissible  view  of  the  Godhead 
for  those  who  believe  in  the  Father,  in  the  Son,  and  in 
the  Holy  Spirit  of  grace.  Theology  plants  its  feet  on 
solid  earth  —  “  that  which  we  have  seen  and  heard 
declare  we  unto  you  ”  1 — not  that  it  may  remain  there, 
but  that,  with  the  apostle,  it  may  mount  to  loftiest 
heights  of  assertion,  in  declaring  that  “the  Word  was 
God,”  2  and  that  “  the  eternal  life  which  was  with  the 
Father  was  manifested  unto  us.”  3  Through  this  contact 
with  historical  reality,  it  safeguards  itself  against  the 
reproach  of  being  “  metaphysical  ”  and  unreal.  What 
are  called,  though  erroneously,  the  “  metaphysics  ”  of 
theology  can  never  support  themselves  in  air.  They 
must,  to  survive,  be  felt  to  be,  not  “  metaphysics  ”  at 
all,  but  plain,  undeniable  implications  of  the  moveless 
facts  of  our  redemption. 

One  result  of  this  new  concentration  of  attention 
on  the  Person  of  Christ  is  that  theology  in  the  modern 
age  has  tended  to  become  Christo-centric.  That  is, 
seeing  in  Christ  at  once  the  centre  of  the  revelation  of 
God’s  purpose,  and  the  goal  of  that  purpose  itself,  it 
desires  to  read  everything  else  in  revelation  in  the 
light  of  its  relation  to  Him — to  find  in  Him  the  clue 
to  the  right  knowledge  of  God,  man,  sin,  duty,  salva¬ 
tion,  destiny.  Christianity  cannot  help  being  Christo¬ 
centric  in  this  sense — that  it  must  discern  in  Christ’s 
appearance  the  aim  of  all  that  has  gone  before,  and 
the  starting-point  of  the  new  creation  that  is  to  come 
after.  Whether  the  Person  of  Christ  can  properly  be 
i  John  i.  3.  2  John  i.  1.  3  1  John  i.  2. 


1 


KEN  OTIC  THEORIES 


337 


made  the  governing  principle  of  a  theological  system 
— which,  as  I  said  at  the  beginning,  must  follow  the 
order  of  the  logical  dependence  of  doctrines — is  another 
matter.  A  second  consequence  of  the  attention  given 
to  these  subjects,  and  specially  to  the  conditions  of 
Christ’s  earthly  life,  has  been  the  renewed  and  elaborate 
discussion  of  the  question  of  the  Kenosis.  If  I  do  not 
enter  into  the  details  of  the  modern  Kenotic  theories,1 
it  is  because,  as  I  take  it,  the  influence  of  most  of  these 
is  already  a  thing  of  the  past.  The  self-obliteration 
of  the  Logos  to  the  point  of  the  surrender  of  His 
conscious  life  in  the  Godhead  (which  is  their  salient 
feature),  is  more  than  “  self-emptying  ” — it  is  practically 
self-extinction  ;  while  the  person  that  results  is  in  no 
way  distinguishable  from  ordinary  man  save  in  His 
undeveloped  potencies.  Thus,  by  a  curious  reversal  of 
stand-point,  Kenoticism  works  round  to  a  species  of 
Ebionitism.  Accordingly,  the  tendency  of  the  newer 
Christological  theories  has  been  to  dispense  with  the 
pre-existent  Logos  altogether  as  a  metaphysical  figment. 
This  type  of  doctrine,  therefore,  is  no  longer  influential. 
The  form  in  which  the  Kenotic  problem  now  particu¬ 
larly  presents  itself  is  that  of  the  limitations  of  Christ’s 
earthly  knowledge.  That  Christ  was  subject  to  growth 
and  development,  in  wisdom  as  in  stature,  we  know  ; 2 
and  His  ignorance  on  one  crucial  point  in  the  future 
of  His  kingdom  rests  on  His  own  testimony.3  But  on 
the  extent  of  this  limitation  of  Christ’s  knowledge,  how 
far  it  was  voluntary,  in  what  degree  it  involved  accept¬ 
ance  of  current  beliefs,4  as  about  angels  and  demons, 
or  the  age  and  authorship  of  the  Scriptural  books,  or 
what  authority  attaches  to  His  teaching  on  such  subjects, 

1  Professor  Bruce’s  Humiliation  of  Christ  may  be  consulted  for  these. 

2  Luke  ii.  52.  3  Mark  xiii.  33. 

4  Cf.  Weiss’s  Teaching  of  Jesus. 

Z 


33^ 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


much  controversy  still  exists.  Naturally,  the  treatment 
of  those  who  proceed  on  purely  humanitarian  assump¬ 
tions  tends  to  conclusions  which  would,  if  adopted, 
destroy  reliance  on  Christ’s  consciousness  on  any 
matters  involving  objective  knowledge.  Those,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  accept  the  postulate  of  the  incarnation, 
while  acknowledging  the  difficulty  on  many  points  of 
arriving  at  an  exact  settlement,  can  take  much  more 
positive  ground,  and  will  attribute  to  Christ’s  conscious¬ 
ness,  not  only  an  absolute  self-certainty  on  all  that 
relates  to  Himself  and  His  mission  to  the  world,  but  a 
uniqueness  of  vision  and  depth  of  insight  into  things 
both  spiritual  and  natural,  arising  not  simply  from  purer 
intuition,  but  from  the  unveiled  intercourse  He  sustained 
with  the  Father,1  and  the  elevation  above  ordinary 
conditions  of  knowledge  resulting  therefrom. 

There  is  yet  another  doctrine  on  which  I  must  try 
to  let  fall  the  light  of  this  modern  spirit — I  mean  the 
doctrine  of  atonement.  It  was  a  great  service  which 
Schleiermacher  rendered  when  he  defined  Christianity 
as  the  religion  in  which  everything  is  referred  back  to 
Christ  through  the  consciousness  of  redemption  by 
Him.  This  put  redemption  back  into  the  heart  of  the 
Christian  scheme,  from  which  rationalism  had  displaced 
it.  But  while,  since  Schleiermacher’s  day,  the  right  of 
Christianity  to  be  regarded  as  the  religion  of  redemp¬ 
tion  is  not  seriously  contested,  there  has  admittedly 
been  a  powerful  reaction  against  that  form  of  conceiving 
of  redemption  which  regards  Christ’s  death  as  a  vicarious 
atonement  for  sin.  One  reason  of  this  no  doubt  was 
that  the  scheme  of  salvation,  in  the  forms  of  the 
covenant  theology,  had  become  too  hard,  mechanical, 
juridical,  and  the  minds  of  men,  in  consequence,  had 

1  Cf.  Matt.  xi.  27  ;  John  v.  19,  20,  etc. 


MODERN  THEORIES  OF  A  TONEMENT 


339 


come  to  yearn  for  something  more  vital  and  ethical. 
Hence  the  attraction  of  theories  like  those  of  Maurice 
or  Erskine  of  Linlathen,  which  placed  the  nerve  of 
atonement  in  the  surrender  of  Christ’s  holy  will  to  the 
Father  ;  of  Bushnell,  who  sought  the  key  to  it  in  the 
power  of  sympathetic  love  ;  of  M‘Leod  Campbell,  which 
explained  it  as  a  perfect  confession  of  the  sin  of 
humanity  by  Christ,  which  had  in  it  all  the  elements  of 
a  vicarious  repentance  for  sin  ; 1  or  the  simpler  solution 
still,  that  God  reconciles  us  to  Himself,  without  atone¬ 
ment  of  any  kind,  by  the  revelation  of  His  fatherly  love 
and  grace.  It  is  characteristic  of  all  these  views  that 
they  set  aside  what  was  an  undeniable  element  in  the 
Reformation  doctrine  of  redemption,  viz.,  the  so-called 
“  forensic  ”  aspect  of  Christ’s  atonement,  His  satisfaction 
to  the  justice  of  God  by  the  endurance  of  sin’s  penalty 
in  name  and  room  of  men.  To  this  result  also  other 
influences  have  contributed  ;  not  least  the  evolutionary 
theory  of  man’s  animal  origin  and  low  primitive  con¬ 
dition.  This,  from  its  nature,  makes  a  view  of  the 
sin  and  guilt  of  the  race,  such  as  constitutes  a  pre¬ 
supposition  for  a  doctrine  of  atonement,  impossible. 
Christ,  from  the  point  of  view  of  this  theory,  represents 
rather  the  apex  of  evolutionary  development,  an  in¬ 
spiration  and  aid  to  humanity  in  its  upward  striving, 
but  in  no  real  sense  the  world’s  Redeemer. 

To  say  that  these  theories  are  inadequate  is  by  no 
means  to  affirm  that  the  attitude  of  theology  towards 
them  should  be  one  of  uncompromising  rejection.  On 
the  contrary,  they  bring  to  light  important  elements  in 

1  Dr.  Campbell  has  found  few  to  agree  with  him  in  his  theory  of  a 
vicarious  repentance.  His  view,  however,  has  much  deeper  elements  in 
regarding  this  confession  of  the  sin  of  the  world  as  a  response — an  Amen 
— from  the  depths  of  humanity  to  God’s  righteous  condemnation  of  it. 
Counterparts  of  all  these  theories,  including  Campbell’s  (cf.  Haring),  are 
to  be  found  in  Continental  theology. 


340 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


the  total  work  of  Christ.  There  is  not  one  of  them  we 
could  afford  to  want  :  theology  is  richer  through  their 
elucidations.  They  help  in  recalling  us  to  the  percep¬ 
tion  that  Christ’s  sufferings  in  our  nature  were  no 
arbitrary  ordinance,  but  sprang  naturally  out  of  His 
relation  to  us,  His  position  in  the  world,  His  witness 
for  the  Father  ;  1  in  showing  us  that  His  substitution 
of  Himself  for  us  was  no  external  act,  but  had  its  vital 
roots  in  the  sympathetic  love  which  led  Him  to  take 
the  sins  and  sorrows  of  the  race  He  came  to  save  upon 
His  heart;2  in  reminding  us  that  the  value  of  His 
sacrifice  lay,  not  in  the  mere  quantum  of  His  suffering, 
but  in  the  ethical  elements  it  involved — in  His  obedient 
will,  and  perfect  love  to  God  and  man,  and  spiritual 
realisation  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  honour  done  to  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  submission  to  His  judgment  on 
sin.  Not  any  of  these,  as  our  survey  has  shown, 
are  absolutely  new  thoughts  ;  but  they  are  put  in  new 
lights,  with  finer  appreciation  of  the  spiritual  laws 
involved,  and  are  made  leading  thoughts  in  the  inter¬ 
pretation  of  Christ’s  sacrifice.  Thus  far  they  do  not 
conflict  with,  but  enable  us  to  understand  better,  Christ’s 
death  as  an  atonement  for  sin.  Those  who  hold  most 
strictly  by  the  judicial  view  may  find  in  them  elements 
of  assistance.  Thus  it  is  a  distinct  gain  to  this  doctrine 
that  modern  thought  should  lay  stress  upon,  and 
claim  to  have  established,  the  organic  constitution  and 
solidarity  of  the  race.  It  cannot  be  overlooked  that 
the  cogency  of  much  of  the  criticism  passed  on  the 
doctrine  of  vicarious  atonement  rests  on  individualistic 
presuppositions.  How  can  it  be  right  that  one  should 

1  Thus  Anselm.  There  are,  however,  elements  in  the  later  sufferings 
of  Christ  (Garden  and  Cross)  which  seem  to  require  special  explanation 
from  His  relation  to  us  as  sin-bearer. 

2  Matt.  viii.  1 7. 


SUBSTITUTION  AND  SATISFACTION 


34i 


suffer  for  another  ? — that  the  innocent  should  suffer  for 
the  guilty  ?  But  if  society  is  considered  from  the 
organic  as  well  as  from  the  individualistic  point  of 
view,  such  suffering  is  seen  to  be  one  of  the  commonest 
facts  of  life.  “  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no 
man  dieth  to  himself.”1  We  do  participate  in  the  good 
and  evil  of  one  another’s  acts.  Heredity  is  a  biological 
witness  to  the  law  of  solidarity.  The  penalties  of  sin 
are  rarely  confined  to  the  individual  evil-doer.  They 
overflow  on  all  connected  with  him — descend  to  his 
posterity.  The  innocent  has  to  bear  the  load  and 
shame  of  them,  and  often  voluntarily  assumes  them. 
This  brings  in  the  principle  of  substitution.  Can  sub¬ 
stitution  ever  be  right?  The  use  of  such  theories  as 
Bushnell’s  is  to  remind  us  that  the  world  is  full  of 
substitutionary  forces  ;  that  they  are  involved  in  the 
very  nature  and  ministries  of  love.  Willingness  to  take 
on  oneself  pain,  labour,  shame,  and  penalty  for  others 
is  universally  regarded  as  the  highest  proof  of  love. 
“  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay 
down  his  life  for  his  friends.”  9 

The  problem  which  modern  theology  is  concerned 
with,  however,  is  not  the  righteousness  of  the  innocent 
suffering  for  the  guilty  ;  or  the  sympathetic  taking  by 
one  upon  himself  of  the  pains  and  sorrows,  and  even 
the  cost  in  penalty,  of  another’s  transgressions.  The 
law  of  vicarious  suffering — the  obligation,  in  Bushnell’s 
phrase,  of  “  making  cost  ”  for  others — is  recognised  in 
all  theories.  Altruism  has  substitution  in  its  heart. 
The  question  which  presses  is  that  of  the  expiatory  or 
satisfactory  character  of  these  sufferings — their  power 
to  atone  for  the  guilt  of  others.  Is  there  need  for  such 
expiation  and  satisfaction  as  the  old  theory  required  ?  If 

1  Rom.  xiv.  7.  2  John  xv.  13. 


342 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


needed,  is  it  thinkable  that  one  should  be  able  to  render 
it  for  others  ?  It  cannot  be  denied,  as  I  have  said, 
that  there  is  a  widespread  recoil  from  this  idea,  though 
as  yet  no  creed  has  ventured  to  exclude  it  (probably 
could  not  succeed  in  doing  so),  and  there  are  many 
signs  that  earnest  thought  is  feeling  its  way  back 
to  it.1  With  many  it  is  held  as  an  axiom  that  the 
modern  recognition  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God  excludes 
anything  of  a  “judicial  ”  or  “  forensic  ”  character  in  the 
dealings  of  God  with  men.  This  I  believe  to  be  a 
profound  mistake,  carrying  with  it  the  overthrow  of 
much  else  than  a  doctrine  of  atonement — even  of 
those  pillars  of  righteousness  on  which  the  stability  of 
the  moral  universe  depends. 

There  are,  in  my  judgment,  two  considerations 
which  make  it  indispensable  that  the  relation  to  law 
and  guilt  in  the  atonement  of  Christ  should  be 
retained.  The  first  is  that  it  is  an  indubitable 
element  of  the  doctrine  of  Scripture  2 — interwoven  with 
its  deepest  teachings  regarding  God,  sin,  and  the  con¬ 
ditions  of  forgiveness  of  sin.  The  second  is  that  it 
alone  meets  the  needs  of  conscience  in  its  testimony  to 
the  reality  of  moral  law,  and  of  the  evil  and  condem- 
nableness  of  sin.  The  modern  age  owes  not  a  little  to 
Kant  for  the  decision  with  which  he  upheld  those  great 
primary  convictions  of  the  moral  consciousness  on 
which  the  demand  for  atonement  of  sin  rests 3 
(though  he  does  not  make  this  particular  application 
of  his  principles).  The  question  of  a  “forensic”  aspect 

1  This  both  in  Germany  and  in  our  own  country. 

2  See  summaries  of  the  Scripture  testimony  in  Dale,  Crawford,  Cave 
(on  Sacrifice),  etc. 

3  Ritschl  very  fully  recognises  this  in  his  first  vol.  on  Justif.  and 
Recon.  But  he  considerably  alters  his  positions  in  the  second  and  third 
volumes. 


“  FA  THERHOOD  ”  AND  “  LA  IV” 


343 


of  the  atonement  is  simply,  reduced  to  its  ultimate,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  the  question  of  the  reality  of  moral  law 
for  God  as  well  as  for  man.  If  there  is  moral  law, 
grounded,  not  in  the  will,  but  in  the  nature,  of  God, 
— such  law  as  conscience  reveals,  and  as  is  implicitly 
recognised  in  the  daily  moral  judgments  of  men,1 — 
then  the  relations  of  God  to  men  must  have  in  one 
aspect  a  “  forensic  ”  character.  Our  relation  to  God 
in  conscience,  e.g.,  is  “  forensic,”  and  can  be  nothing 
else.  Fatherhood  cannot — though  so  much  higher 
and  more  tender — sublate  this  still  more  fundamental 
aspect  of  God’s  relation  to  His  world.2  We  call  on 
the  Father,  who  is  also  the  Judge.3  Father  and  Law¬ 
giver,  in  other  words,  are  in  no  way  opposites.  A 
universe  without  law  would  be  chaos.  A  God  for 
whom  moral  law  was  not  as  sacred  as  it  is,  or  ought 
to  be,  to  the  consciences  of  His  creatures  would  not 
be  a  God  we  could  revere.  It  is  easy  to  say,  “Love 
is  above  law,  and  can  freely  remit  sin.”  But  love  is 
not  above  law  in  the  sense  that  it  can  set  aside  law 
at  pleasure.  There  are  things  which  even  God  can¬ 
not  do,  and  one  is  to  say  that  His  holiness  shall  not 
react  against  sin  in  condemnation  and  punishment. 
We  read  that  God  is  merciful  and  gracious,  forgiving 
iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin  ;  but  the  same  Scrip¬ 
ture  declares  with  no  less  emphasis  that  He  will  “  by 
no  means  clear  the  guilty.” 4  This  does  not  mean 
that  God  cannot  forgive  sin,  for  it  has  just  been 
affirmed  that  He  can.  But  it  does  mean  that  he  can 
never  call  sin  aught  but  what  it  is  ;  can  never  tamper 

1  Rom.  ii.  i. 

2  More  fundamental  in  the  same  sense  that  the  so-called  metaphysical 
determination  of  God’s  being  and  thought  precede  in  idea  the  moral. 
The  general  moral  relations  in  like  manner  precede  in  thought  and  fact 
the  free  loving  relations  of  Fatherhood. 

3  I  Pet.  i.  17.  4  Exod.  xxxiv.  6,  7. 


344 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


with  the  condemning  testimony  of  His  law  against  it  ; 
cannot  forgive  it  even,  without  seeing  that,  in  the  very  act 
of  forgiveness,  the  interests  of  holiness  are  conserved.1 

This,  then,  is  the  reason  why  I  cannot  consent  to 
part  with  the  idea  of  satisfaction  to  law  in  Christ’s 
atonement.  A  complete  theory  of  atonement,  that  is 
to  say,  must  take  account  of  the  judicial  and  punitive 
aspect  of  God’s  character,  and  Christ’s  work  must  be 
shown  to  have  a  relation  to  that  aspect  as  to  every 
other.  It  is  of  the  nature  of  conscience — which,  as 
remarked  above,  knows  God  in  his  “forensic”  character, 
and  no  other — that  it  craves  that  sin  shall  not  be  simply 
forgiven,  but  that,  in  the  very  forgiving  of  it,  the  law 
shall  be  upheld.  It  was  the  answer,  based  on  God’s 
word  in  Scripture,  it  made  to  this  demand,  which,  as  I 
formerly  showed,  gave  the  Reformation  its  strength 
as  a  religious  movement.2  It  is  the  same  answer  the 
Church  must  give  still  if,  under  the  disquieting  sense  of 
guilt,  a  stable  basis  is  to  be  found  for  peace  with  God. 
I  do  not  fear,  then,  but  that  theology  will  come  back 
to  this  aspect  of  the  atonement  as  an  imperative 
necessity  of  a  full  Gospel.  Yet  the  way  in  which  even 
this  side  of  the  atonement  will  be  apprehended  and 
presented  will,  I  conceive,  differ  somewhat  from  the 
older  mode.  Less  stress  will  be  laid  on  federal  con¬ 
ceptions,  and  more  on  the  organic  and  vital  relations 
of  Christ  with  believers.  Substitution  will  be  inter¬ 
preted  through  representation — the  old  idea  of  the 
Head  suffering  for  the  members,  and  through  the 
priestly  qualification  of  sympathy.3  The  ethical 
elements  that  entered  into  Christ’s  sacrifice  will 

1  Mr.  Lidgett  in  his  work  on  the  Atonement  puts  all  this  into  the 
Fatherhood.  I  can  hardly  follow  him  here. 

2  Cf.  above,  Lecture  VIII.  3  Heb.  ii.  10-17  ;  iv.  14-16. 


ETHICAL  ELEMENTS  IN  ATONEMENT  345 


receive  more  prominence,  and  be  used  as  motives  to 
win  the  heart.1  Christ’s  sufferings  will  be  seen  to 
spring  from  His  vocation,  and  His  endurance  of  penal 
evils,  death  included,  to  be  a  consequence  of  His  identi¬ 
fication  of  Himself  with  sinners  in  their  whole  lot  as 
under  the  curse.  It  will  be  felt  how  naturally,  stand¬ 
ing  in  this  intimate  relation  to  us,  and  knowing  Him¬ 
self  appointed  thereto,  Christ  should  constitute  Himself 
our  sin-bearer,  honouring  God’s  law  by  submission 
alike  to  its  precept  and  penalty,  glorifying  the 
righteousness  of  God,  and,  under  the  full  realisation  of 
the  doom  which  sin  had  brought  upon  our  race,  render¬ 
ing  to  God  from  the  depths  of  our  humanity  that 
“  Amen  ”  which  M‘Leod  Campbell  speaks  of,  which  had 
in  it,  if  anything  could  have,  the  virtue  of  atonement. 
For  it  is  again  to  be  repeated,  that  it  was  not  the  mere 
endurance  of  the  judgment  of  God  against  sin,  but  the 
way  in  which  Christ  met  that  judgment,  in  which  the 
atonement  for  sin  lay.  This  work  of  Christ,  appre¬ 
hended  by  faith,  is  our  justifying  righteousness  before 
God — that  in  which  we  stand  absolved  and  accepted 
before  Him.  Seeing  in  that  perfection  of  our  Redeemer 
all  we  would  wish  to  be,  but  are  not,  God  graciously 
counts  it  ours,  and  sets  it  before  us  as  our  life-task  to 
grow  up  into  Him  who  is  our  Head  in  all  things,  till 
the  likeness  is  complete. 

III.  I  have  left  myself  but  little  space  for  the  last 
topic  I  have  to  touch  on  —  that  which  brings  these 
lectures  to  a  close — the  relation  of  our  modern  age  to 
Eschatology.  I  pointed  out  in  previous  references  to 
the  subject 2  that  there  has  never  been  an  epoch  for 
eschatology  as  for  other  doctrines.  So  far  as  the  early 

1  Cf.  an  interesting  chapter  in  Sartorius,  Divine  Love ,  pp.  147  ff.  (E.T.). 

Cf.  Lectures  I.,  IX. 


346 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


Church  had  a  doctrine  of  the  last  things,  it  was  prevail¬ 
ingly  chiliastic,  i.e.,  millenarian.1  In  the  Fathers  who 
succeeded  we  have  already  the  beginnings  of  all  the 
tendencies  which  have  since  been  developed  more  fully. 
In  Origen,  eg.,  in  the  first  half  of  the  third  century,  we 
have  the  doctrine  of  final  restitution  ;  as  in  his  prede¬ 
cessor  Clement,  we  have  a  theory  of  what  would  now  be 
called  second  probation.  Origen  was  followed  in  his  re¬ 
storation  theories  by  Gregory  of  Nyssa  (fourth  century), 
Theodore  of  Mopsuestia  (fifth  century),  and  others. 
Neither  his  views  nor  Clement’s,  however,  obtained 
general  currency  in  the  early  Church,  still  less  were 
favoured  in  the  Mediaeval  Church.  Attempts  have 
repeatedly  been  made  to  identify  the  apologists  and 
early  Fathers  with  what  is  known  as  the  doctrine  of 
conditional  immortality,  i.e.,  the  theory  of  the  natural 
mortality  of  man,  soul  as  well  as  body,  and  of  the 
annihilation  of  the  wicked — immortality  being  viewed 
as  a  gift  of  grace.  But  there  is  here  a  misapprehension. 
These  Fathers  do,  indeed,  frequently  speak  of  immor¬ 
tality  as  depending  on  the  will  of  God  ;  but  this  only 
in  opposition  to  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  an  inherent 
immortality  of  souls  (subsisting  both  before  and  after 
birth),  and  not  with  the  intention  of  throwing  doubt  on 
the  immortality  of  souls  de  facto.  The  usual  theory  in 
the  Church  was  that  of  an  eternal  punishment  for  the 
wicked  and  eternal  reward  for  the  good.  The  traces 
of  the  cruder  view  are  few,  and  in  ill-instructed  writers.2 
Very  early,  on  the  other  hand,  we  come  on  germs  of 
what  afterwards  ripened  into  the  doctrine  of  purgatory, 
i.e.,  an  intermediate  state  for  the  purification  by  suffering 
of  the  imperfectly  sanctified,  or  of  expiation  of  sins  not 
sufficiently  satisfied  for  here.  Hermas  in  his  Shepherd 

1  Thus,  e.g. ,  Papias,  Justin,  Irenseus. 

2  E.g.,  Hermas  (second  century),  Arnobius  (end  of  third  century). 


PROGRESS  OF  ESCHATOLOGY 


347 


(second  century)  has  already  the  germ  of  such  a  belief, 
and  prayers  for  the  dead  from  an  early  date  imply  it. 
Still  with  Augustine  (fifth  century)  purgatorial  suffering 
is  still  only  a  perhaps,  and  not  till  the  end  of  the  sixth 
century  does  the  doctrine  receive  formal  shape  at  the 
hands  of  Pope  Gregory  the  Great  Thereafter  escha¬ 
tology  enters  on  what  may  be  called  its  mythological 
phase  in  the  Middle  Ages.  The  invisible  world  is 
divided  into  Heaven,  Hell,  and  Purgatory,  and  imagina¬ 
tion  revels  in  descriptions  of  the  topography,  arrange¬ 
ments,  and  experiences  of  each  region.  The  Reformation 
swept  away  these  creations  of  terror  and  fancy,  and 
reverted  to  the  severe  antithesis  of  Heaven  and  Hell. 
Both  abodes  are  conceived  of  as  entered  at  death, 
though  the  final  reception  to  blessedness  or  banish¬ 
ment  to  woe  is  after  the  resurrection  and  final  judg¬ 
ment.  Thus  the  matter  stood,  and  very  awful  were  the 
liberties  which  the  holiest  of  men  permitted  themselves 
in  picturing  the  irreversible  condition  and  terrible 
torments  of  the  lost.  There  is  hardly  anything  in 
literature  more  appalling,  for  example,  than  the  sermon 
of  Jonathan  Edwards  on  this  subject,  nor  is  it  easy  to 
explain  how  so  spiritual  and  gracious  a  man — one  so 
penetrated  by  the  thought  of  the  love  of  God — could 
allow  himself  to  write  as  he  did  of  the  dealings  of  the 
Almighty  even  with  the  condemned.  So  with  Boston 
and  other  divines. 

All  this  of  necessity  provoked  a  reaction.  We  see 
alreadya  decided  weakening  of  the  doctrine  in  Arminians 
like  Limborch.  Deism  and  the  easy-going  theology  of 
the  illuminist  period, '*  with  their  lighter  views  of  sin, 
protested  against  the  orthodox  view.  Then  the  stronger 
intellect  and  conscience  of  the  nineteenth  century  took 
up  the  opposition.  The  general  enlargement  of  know¬ 
ledge,  the  better  acquaintance  with  other  civilisations 


348 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


and  religions,  reflection  on  the  unnumbered  millions  of 
the  heathen  world  who  had  never  heard  of  Christ,  the 
stronger  feeling  of  the  complexity  of  the  problem  of 
responsibility  awakened  by  discussions  on  heredity, 
operated  in  the  same  direction  of  fostering  doubt  and 
provoking  inquiry.  The  theological  doctrine  itself  was 
plainly  inconsequent  in  its  sharply-exclusive  division 
into  Heaven  and  Hell,  while  acknowledging  that  neither 
condition  is  complete  in  the  interval  of  disembodied 
existence.  Is  it  to  be  supposed  that  beings,  after 
spending  ages  of  happiness  or  misery  in  these  abodes, 
are  brought  forth  from  them  at  the  resurrection  to  be 
judged,  only  to  be  sent  back  to  the  same  conditions 
after  the  final  sentence  ?  I  formerly  hinted,  as  a  con¬ 
tributing  cause  to  this  deeper  interest  in  eschatological 
questions,  at  the  sense  of  exhaustion  and  sadness — the 
somewhat  pessimistic  temper — in  which  the  century 
closes,  as  if  human  affairs  were  drawing  to  some  final 
crisis. 

The  effect  of  the  influences  I  have  enumerated  has 
been  to  engender  a  far  profounder  sense  of  the  com¬ 
plexity  and  difficulty  of  the  eschatological  problem 
than  existed  a  generation  or  two  ago.  People  are  less 
inclined  to  dogmatise  in  a  region  where  so  much  is 
necessarily  obscure  ;  are  less  disposed  to  lift  the  veil 
which  it  is  felt  God  has  wisely  left  on  large  portions  of 
the  future  ;  and  would  not  for  the  world  take  upon  their 
lips  the  kind  of  language  about  the  hereafter  of  the 
majority  of  mankind  which  godly  men  freely  employed 
in  last  century.  We  can  observe  a  more  tender  tone 
in  the  utterances  even  of  the  most  orthodox  in  their 
allusions  to  the  fates  of  men.  On  the  other  hand,  not 
content  with  this  laudable  caution,  many  boldly  plunge 
into  speculations  and  dogmatisms  of  an  opposite  kind. 


MODERN  ESC  HA  TO  LOGIC  A  L  VIE  WS 


349 


Older  theories  are  revived  and  defended  with  learning 
and  ability ;  “  larger  hopes  ”  blossom  into  dogmatic 
universalisms ;  the  Fatherhood  of  God  is  made  the 
ground  of  inference  that  none  of  the  Father’s  children 
can  be  allowed  to  perish;  others  seek  to  solve  the  problem 
of  final  obduracy  by  annihilation  ;  with  many  a  favourite 
view  is  that  of  continued,  or  second,  probation, — this 
lasting  till,  as  they  say,  every  soul  has  been  brought 
into  the  full  light  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  and  led 
to  definitive  acceptance  or  rejection  of  Him. 

I  realise — I  can  even  to  some  extent  sympathise 
with — the  motives  which  prompt  these  various  theories. 
The  one  thing  I  feel  compelled  to  say  about  them  is, 
that  they  seem  to  me  to  rest  on  no  solid  basis  in 
Scripture  ;  have,  in  truth,  in  nearly  every  instance,  very 
explicit  Scriptural  statements  against  them  ;  further,  that 
even  if  Scripture  be  put  aside,  the  arguments  in  their 
support  drawn  from  reason,  or  general  considerations 
of  the  divine  character,  are  largely  illusory.  A 
thoughtful  mind,  surveying  the  constitution  of  the 
actual  world,  will  be  extremely  hesitant  about  d  priori 
constructions  of  what  mast  follow  from  a  doctrine  of 
the  love  or  Fatherhood  of  God.  If  we  elect  to  abide 
by  Scripture  the  basis  of  the  new  theories  is  even  more 
precarious.  Take  the  hypothesis  of  the  restitutionist. 
I  think  I  am  justified  in  saying  that  fair  exegesis  of 
Scripture  does  not  warrant  such  hopes  of  a  final 
universal  restoration  of  the  race  as  the  theorist  of  this 
class  indulges  in.1  Scripture  divides  men  at  the 
judgment ;  and  so  far  as  its  light  carries  us — so  far  as 
the  force  of  the  term  cilmvlos  extends,  or  language  that 
bears  the  weightiest  stamp  of  finality  affords  any  clue 
— -it  leaves  them  divided,  a  universe  apart  in  destiny. 

1  Cf.  Note  on  “Alleged  Pauline  Universalism  ”  in  my  Christian  View 
of  God  and  the  World,  Lect.  IX. 


350 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


The  ancient  prophets  knew  how  to  hold  out  to  Israel 
hopes  of  an  earthly  restoration  after  all  their  sorrows,  and 
Jesus  and  His  apostles  could  have  spoken  as  explicitly 
of  a  final  gathering  home  of  all  souls  to  God.  But  the 
impressive  fact  is  that  they  did  not.  I  would  not  press 
the  silences  of  Scripture  too  far  ;  but  he  will  be  a  bold 
man  who,  in  face  of  these  silences,  will  draw  aside  the 
veil,  and  venture  to  give  the  assurance  that  every  soul, 
whatever  its  moral  state  or  attitude  to  light  here,  will 
infallibly  be  saved  hereafter — if  not  now,  in  some 
remote  age  of  the  future.  What  can  any  man  con¬ 
ceivably  know  of  the  beyond  to  warrant  such  an  assur¬ 
ance  ?  He  knows  nothing  of  the  conditions  of  that 
future  life  ;  he  knows  not  whether  conversion,  or  new 
decision,  is  possible  there  at  all  ;  whether  eternity  may 
not  be  the  fixing  of  a  man’s  essential  character,  without 
possibility  of  radical  change.1  Yet  he  presumes,  in 
name  of  God’s  love,  to  give  an  assurance  to  every  soul, 
however  negligent  of  opportunity  here,  that  it  will  be 
well  with  it  in  the  life  that  is  to  be  !  This  he  is  not 
entitled  to  do. 

As  little  is  the  theory  which  solves  the  problem  of 
sin  by  the  coup  de  grace  of  annihilation  in  fortunate 
case  as  respects  scriptural  warrant.  It  has  in  modern 
times  important  names  in  its  favour — those,  eg.,  of 
Rothe  and  Ritschl — but  it  is  a  hypothesis  based  on 
metaphors,  or  on  a  priori  considerations  which  have  no 
sufficient  justification.  The  ordinary  conditional 
immortality  doctrine  has  additional  difficulties.  It 
builds  on  such  words  as  “  destruction,”  “  perishing  ”  ; 
but  whereas,  according  to  Scripture,  this  destruction 
falls  on  men  at  the  judgment,  the  theory  in  question, 
for  its  own  ends,  not  only  revives  the  (naturally-mortal) 
soul  after  death,  but  prolongs  its  existence  for  an 

1  “Once  to  die,  and  after  this  judgment”  (Heb.  ix.  27). 


UNRESOLVED  FACTORS  IN  PROBLEM 


35i 


indefinite  period  beyond  the  day  of  doom.  It  pleads 
the  words  “  life  ”  and  “  death  ”  ;  but  has  itself  to  give  a 
deeper  connotation  to  these  words  than  is  implied  in 
bare  existence,  or  its  opposite,  extinction.  The  con¬ 
demned  soul  continues  to  exist  for  a  longer  or  shorter 
time  after  judgment,  but  has  not,  in  the  Scriptural 
sense,  “  life.” 

Finally,  plausible  as  the  theory  of  a  second  or  pro¬ 
longed  probation  may  seem  to  be- — indispensable  in 
some  form,  as  one  may  think,  if  the  range  of  op¬ 
portunity  is  to  be  extended  to  those  who  may  be 
without  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  or  proper  means  of 
acquaintance  with  Him,  here— it  has  also  little  to  say 
for  itself,  beyond  the  ambiguous  passages  in  1  Peter,1  in 
the  way  of  positive  support  from  Scripture.  The  latter 
texts  are  enough  to  keep  us  from  dogmatising  in  an 
opposite  direction  ;  but  the  general  strain  of  Scripture 
is  not  such  as  to  encourage  these  hopes,  or  to  hold  out 
hope  at  all  to  those  who  have  been  wilfully  disobedient 
to  light  on  earth.  Appeal  and  promise  are  concen¬ 
trated  on  the  present ;  the  consequences  of  unbelief 
now  are  represented  as  fatal.  The  judgment  itself 
proceeds  on  the  deeds  done  in  the  body  ; 2  these  alone, 
apparently,  determine  the  character  and  measure  of 
award.  There  is  no  hint  of  a  possible  change  from  the 
one  side  to  the  other  at,  or  prior  to,  the  judgment  seat. 
The  great  problem,  therefore,  remains  unrelieved  by 
any  solution  afforded  us  by  positive  revelation.  Factors, 
indeed,  of  some  kind  unknown  to  us  there  may,  and 
even  must  be  ;  for  we  feel  instinctively  that  the  last 
word  has  not  been  spoken  in  respect  of  the  winding  up 
of  the  affairs  of  a  world  involving  the  destinies  of 
incalculable  multitudes  of  immortal  spirits.  Probably 


1  1  Peter  iii.  18-20;  iv,  5,  6. 

2  Cf.  Matt.  xxv.  31-46;  2  Cor.  v.  10,  etc. 


352 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


with  our  present  faculties  we  could  not  understand  it  if 
it  were.  As  I  have  expressed  it  elsewhere,  we  have 
not  a  calculus  adequate  to  deal  with  the  difficulties 
and  relations  of  this  infinitely  complicated  subject.1 
God  is  the  judge.  Enough  for  us,  while  seeing  to  it 
that  we  do  not  ourselves  fail  to  enter  into  the  rest  of 
God  through  unbelief,2  to  be  assured,  that  whatever  love 
can  do  and  righteousness  permits,  with  the  infinite 
grace  that  streams  from  Christ’s  cross  behind,  will  not 
be  left  undone. 

I  trust,  that,  as  the  result  of  this  survey  in  which 
we  have  been  engaged,  I  have  succeeded  in  some 
degree  in  making  it  apparent  that  there  is  a  true 
meaning  and  progress  in  the  history  of  dogma,  and  that 
some  glimpse  even  has  been  obtained  into  the  law  of 
that  progress.  I  close  by  reiterating  my  conviction 
that  the  outlook  in  theology,  if  not  all  bright,  is 
assuredly  not  all  dark.  There  are,  indeed,  not  wanting 
signs  that  we  are  on  the  eve  of  new  conflicts,  in  which 
new  solvents  will  be  applied  to  Christian  doctrines,  and 
which  may  prove  anxious  and  testing  to  many  who 
do  not  realise  that  Christian  faith  in  every  age  must  be 
a  battle.  That  battle  will  have  to  be  fought,  if  I 
mistake  not,  in  the  first  instance,  round  the  fortress  of 
the  worth  and  authority  of  Holy  Scripture.  A  doctrine 
of  Scripture  adapted  to  the  needs  of  the  hour  in 
harmonising  the  demands  at  once  of  science  and  of 
faith,  is  perhaps  the  most  clamant  want  at  present  in 
theology.  But  the  whole  conception  of  Christianity 
will  get  drawn  in,  and  many  of  the  old  controversies 

1  Christian  View  oj  God  and  the  World ,  Lect.  IX.  On  remaining 
eschatological  questions  of  the  Advent,  Resurrection,  Judgment,  I  must 
refer  to  this  larger  work. 

2  Heb.  iii.  7  ;  iv.  i. 


TASK  OF  TWENTIETH  CENTURY 


353 


will  be  revived  in  new  forms.  On  the  other  hand  I  see 
many  things  yielding  encouragement — the  serious 
attention  being  given  to  the  problems  of  religion  ;  the 
recognition  of  Christ  as  Master  and  Lord  even  by  those 
who  do  not  admit  to  the  full  His  supernatural  Person 
and  claims  ;  the  earnest  temper  of  the  age,  and  its 
desire  to  reach  the  truth  in  all  departments  of  inquiry  ; 
the  searching  light  cast  on  documents  and  institutions, 
which  can  only  result  in  that  which  is  of  abiding  value 
receiving  suitable  acknowledgment.  A  constructive 
period  may  confidently  be  expected  to  follow  the 
present  season  of  criticism  and  testing  of  foundations, 
and  then  will  be  witnessed  the  rearing  of  a  grander 
and  stronger  edifice  of  theology  than  the  ages  have  yet 
seen.  If,  however,  I  were  asked  in  what  I  think  the 
distinctive  peculiarity  of  twentieth-century  Christianity 
will  lie,  I  should  answer  that  it  is  not  in  any  new  or 
overwhelmingly  brilliant  discovery  in  theology  that  I 
look  for  it.  The  lines  of  essential  doctrine  are  by  this 
time  well  and  surely  established.  But  the  Church  has 
another  and  yet  more  difficult  task  before  it,  if  it  is  to 
retain  its  ascendency  over  the  minds  of  men.  That  task 
is  to  bring  Christianity  to  bear  as  an  applied  power  on 
the  life  and  conditions  of  society  ;  to  set  itself  as  it  has 
never  yet  done  to  master  the  meaning  of  “  the  mind  of 
Christ,”  and  to  achieve  the  translation  of  that  mind 
into  the  whole  practical  life  of  the  age — into  laws, 
institutions,  commerce,  literature,  art ;  into  domestic, 
civic,  social,  and  political  relations  ;  into  national  and 
international  doings — in  this  sense  to  bring  in  the 
Kingdom  of  God  among  men.  I  look  to  the 
twentieth  century  to  be  an  era  of  Christian  Ethic  even 
more  than  of  Christian  Theology.  With  God  on  our 
side,  history  behind  us,  and  the  unchanging  needs  of 
the  human  heart  to  appeal  to,  we  need  tremble  for  the 


2  A 


354  THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 

future  of  neither.  “  All  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  all  the 
glory  thereof  as  the  flower  of  the  grass.  The  grass 
withereth,  and  the  flower  falleth  ;  but  the  word  of  the 
Lord  abideth  for  ever.  And  this  is  the  word  of  good 
tidings  which  was  preached  unto  you”  1 

1  i  Pet.  i.  24,  25. 


APPENDIX 


APPENDIX 

The  following  paragraphs  from  an  Introduction  con¬ 
tributed  by  the  author  to  a  work  of  Dr.  B.  B.  Warfield’s 
of  Princeton,  N .J.,  on  The  Right  of  Systematic  Theology , 
will  further  illustrate  the  statements  in  Lect.  I. : — 

“  Systematic  Theology  has  fallen  on  evil  days.  To 
her  may  be  applied  with  scarcely  a  change  of  a  word, 
what  Kant  in  the  Preface  to  his  famous  Critique  says 
of  Metaphysics  : — ■  Time  was  when  she  was  the  queen 
of  all  the  sciences,  and  if  we  take  the  will  for  the  deed, 
she  certainly  deserves,  so  far  as  regards  the  high 
importance  of  her  object-matter,  this  title  of  honour. 
Now  it  is  the  fashion  of  the  time  to  heap  contempt 
and  scorn  upon  her,  and  the  matron  mourns,  forlorn 
and  forsaken,  like  Hecuba — 

Modo  maxima  rerum, 

Tot  generis,  natisque  potens  .  .  . 

Nunc  trahor  exul,  inops.’ 1 

“  But  a  subsequent  sentence  also  of  this  great  thinker 
may  be  applied  to  theology  :  *  For  it  is  in  reality  vain/ 
he  says,  ‘  to  profess  indifference  in  regard  to  such 
inquiries,  the  object  of  which  cannot  be  indifferent  to 
humanity.  Besides,  these  pretended  indifferents,  how- 

1  “So  lately  the  greatest  woman  in  the  world,  powerful  in  so  many 
sons-in-law  and  children  .  .  .  Now  I  am  dragged  away  an  exile,  destitute.” 


358 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


ever  much  they  may  try  to  disguise  themselves  by  the 
assumption  of  a  popular  style  and  by  changes  on  the 
language  of  the  schools,  undoubtedly  fall  into  [theo¬ 
logical]  declarations  and  propositions,  which  they  profess 
to  regard  with  so  much  contempt.’ 

“  The  grounds  on  which  a  denial  of  the  right  of 
Systematic  Theology  to  exist  is  based  are  various,  but 
they  may  at  bottom  all  be  reduced  to  one — the  denial 
of  the  existence  of  an  adequate  foundation  on  which 
such  a  structure  can  be  reared.  Whether  it  be  that 
the  human  faculties  are  held  to  be  constitutionally 
incompetent  to  such  a  true  knowledge  of  God  and 
His  ways  as  is  presupposed  in  theology;  or  that  the 
nature  of  religion,  as  lying  in  sentiment  or  emotion,  is 
thought  to  preclude  the  element  of  knowledge, — other¬ 
wise,  indeed,  than  as  the  poetic  vesture  in  which 
religious  emotions  transiently  clothe  themselves  ;  or 
that  there  is  lacking  in  reason  or  revelation  a  reliable 
source  from  which  the  desiderated  knowledge  may  be 
obtained  ;  or  that  the  data  in  Scripture  or  religious 
facts  on  which  theology  has  hitherto  been  supposed  to 
rest  have  been  rendered  insecure  or  swept  away  by 
modern  doubt  and  criticism — the  result  is  the  same, 
that  theology  has  not  a  trustworthy  foundation  on 
which  to  build,  and  that,  in  consequence,  it  is  an 
illegitimate  pretender  to  the  name  of  science.  For  it 
will  be  conceded  that  this  last  and  highest  branch  of 
theological  discipline  proposes  nothing  less  to  itself 
than  the  systematic  exhibition  and  scientific  grounding 
of  what  true  knowledge  we  possess  of  God  and  His 
character  and  FI  is  ways  of  dealing  with  the  world  and 
men  ;  and  if  no  such  knowledge  really  exists, — if  what 
men  have  is  at  best  vague  yearnings,  intuitions,  aspira¬ 
tions,  guesses,  imaginings,  hypotheses,  about  God, 
assuming  this  name  to  be  itself  anything  more  than 


APPENDIX 


359 


a  symbol  of  the  dim  feeling  of  the  mystery  at  the 
root  of  the  universe, — if  these  emotional  states  and  the 
conceptions  to  which  they  give  rise  are  ever  changing 
with  men’s  changeful  fancies  and  the  varying  stages  of 
culture, — then  it  is  as  vain  to  attempt  to  construct  a 
science  of  theology  out  of  such  materials  as  it  would 
be  to  weave  a  solid  tissue  out  of  sunbeams,  or  erect  a 
temple  out  of  the  changing  shapes  and  hues  of  cloud- 
land.  A  ‘  Science  of  Religions  ’  might  still  exist  to 
investigate  the  psychological  laws  involved  in  religious 
phenomena  and  their  mocking  illusions,  and  ‘  Dog¬ 
matics  ’  might  remain  as  a  study  and  criticism  of  the 
Church’s  historical  creeds  ;  but  an  independent  ‘  Science 
of  Theology,’  as  a  body  of  natural  and  revealed  truth 
about  God,  and  His  purposes  and  dealings,  would  no 
more  have  any  place.  .  .  . 

“  Divested  of  irrelevancies,  the  issue  resolves  itself 
ultimately  into  the  one  question  of  the  fact,  nature, 
and  verifiableness  of  the  historical  Christian  (Biblical) 
revelation.  The  time  is  past  when  men’s  minds  were 
captivated  by  the  idea  of  a  ‘  Natural  Religion  ’  con¬ 
sisting  of  a  few  simple  articles  drawn  from,  and  capable 
of  proof  by,  reason  apart  from  supernatural  revelation 
— that  favourite  dream  of  the  Deists  and  eighteenth- 
century  illuminists  ;  and  while  the  ‘  speculative  ’  theory 
which  would  render  theology  independent  of  history  by 
resolving  its  essential  doctrines  into  metaphysical  ideas 
has  still  its  advocates,  its  sceptre  is  long  broken  in  the 
domain  of  really  serious  theology.  There  remains  as 
a  source  of  theological  knowledge  the  positive  revealing 
and  redeeming  acts  and  words  of  God  which  constitute 
the  subject-matter  of  historical  revelation,  though  it 
may  be  contended  that  these  stand  in  no  antagonism 
to  the  conclusions  of  sound  reason  reflecting  on  the 
structure  of  the  universe,  or  pondering  the  deeper 


360 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


questions  of  origin  and  destiny,  but  rather  are  in  truest 
consonance  with  the  latter,  and  furnish  reason  with  a 
light  to  help  it  on  its  way.  The  chief  danger,  accord¬ 
ingly,  in  which  theology  at  present  stands,  arises  from 
the  mode  in  which  these  historical  foundations  of 
revelation  are  being  critically  and  sceptically  assailed, 
— a  process  which  has  already  gone  to  sufficient  lengths 
with  respect  to  the  Old  Testament,  and  is  now  being 
applied  to  subvert  faith  in  such  vital  facts  as  the 
Resurrection  of  our  Lord,  and  the  miraculous  context 
of  the  life  of  Christ  generally,  in  the  New.  It  is  in 
this  part  of  the  apologetic  field,  probably,  that  a  new 
and  decisive  battle  will  have  to  be  fought  in  the 
interests  of  the  possibility  of  theology  ;  and  it  is  satis¬ 
factory  to  observe  that  one  result  of  the  critical  move¬ 
ment  itself  has  been  to  impress  on  many  minds  the 
impossibility  of  eliminating  the  supernatural  factor 
from  the  explanation  of  the  history  either  of  Israel 
or  of  Christ.” 


INDEX 


Abelard,  136;  theory  of  atonement, 
28,  229  ff.  ;  opposed  by  Bernard, 
230-231 

Adoptionist  controversy,  206  ;  Har- 
nack’s  use  of  term,  76-78,  90 
Agnosticism,  321-322 
Alogi,  90 

Alexandria,  school  of,  82-84  ;  106- 
107  ;  182  ;  188  ff. 

Allen,  Dr.,  6,  136 
Amyraldism,  299 

Anselm,  136,  162  ;  epoch-making, 
210  ;  his  Cur  Deus  Homo ,  28,  21 1, 
215,  220  ;  theory  of  satisfaction, 
221  ff.  ;  contrast  with  Abelard, 
230;  232-233,  236-237,  255 
Anthropology,  26  ;  in  Western 
Church,  135  ff.  ;  bearing  of 
evolution  on,  328-330 
Antioch,  school  of,  106-107  ;  182- 
183  ;  representatives,  183,  187  ; 
theology  of  Theodore,  183  ff. 
Antonines,  age  of,  36 
Apollinaris,  179  ;  his  doctrine,  179 
ff.  ;  condemned,  18 1 
Apologists,  early,  37  ;  Harnack’s 
criticism  of,  25,  48  ff.  ;  their  Logos 
doctrine,  53,  78  ff.  ;  on  the  Spirit, 

125 

Apology,  early,  24,  35  ;  rise  and 
range  of,  36-37  ;  Justin,  37-39. 
47.  52-53  I  complexity  of,  39,  54  ; 
aims  of,  44  ff.  ;  Harnack  on,  48  ff. 

—  eighteenth  century,  306 

—  modern,  comprehensiveness  of, 
319-320;  relation  to  Christian 
system,  322 

Apostolic  Fathers,  Christology  of, 
75  ff.  ;  on  the  Spirit,  125  ;  on  re¬ 
demption,  242  ff.  ;  on  eschatology, 
346 


Aquinas,  on  atonement,  28,  231  ;  on 
will  of  God,  232  ;  on  justification, 
255 

Arian  controversy,  25  ;  origin,  108  ; 
importance,  109  ;  parties  in,  112 
ff.  ;  Arian  doctrine,  113  ;  logical 
bearings,  115  ff. ;  Council  of  Nicsea, 
1 17  ff .  ;  after -history,  170  ff.  ; 
Council  of  Constantinople,  123  ; 
Arian  doctrine  of  Spirit,  127,  130 
Aristides,  37,  48 

Arius,  his  character,  108  ;  doctrine, 
1 13  ;  death,  122  ;  136 
Arminianism,  reaction  against  Cal¬ 
vinism,  295  ;  views  of  Arminius, 
296  ;  of  Remonstrants,  297  ;  con¬ 
demned  at  Dort,  298  ;  later  his¬ 
tory,  /£99-J?oo 
Artemonites,  74,  91 
Athanasius,  95-96;  in  Arian  con¬ 
troversy,  1 12  ff.  ;  persecutions  and 
character,  120- 121;  relation  to 
Hellenism,  123  ;  on  Spirit,  127  ; 
on  redemption,  112,  174,  180, 
215  ff. 

Athenagoras,  37,  80,  125 
Atonement,  in  early  church,  21 1  ff.  ; 
Apostolic  Fathers  on,  212  ff.  ; 
Irenaeuson,  70,  213  ff. ;  Origenon, 
215  ;  Athanasius  on,  215  ff.  ;  ran¬ 
som  to  Satan  theory,  214-215,  217- 
218,  222,  229-30  ;  Western  view, 
218  ;  theory  of  Anselm,  220  ff.  ;  of 
Abelard,  229  ff.  ;  of  Bernard,  230- 
231  ;  of  Aquinas,  231  ff.  ;  connec¬ 
tion  with  justification,  234,  255  ; 
Reformation  doctrine,  235  ff.  ; 
modern  views  —  Schleiermacher, 
338  ;  Maurice,  339  ;  Bushnell,  339, 
341 ;  M'Leod  Campbell,  339,  345  ; 
ethical  elements  in,  218,  227,  229, 


362 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


230-  233,  238,  340-341,  344- 

345 

Attacks  on  Christianity,  early  liter¬ 
ary,  40  ff.  See  Celsus 

Augustine,  12,  16,  26  ;  as  theologian, 
i35'i38  I  his  Confessions ,  138  ff.  ; 
relation  to  Manichaeism,  140  ;  as 
churchman,  141-142;  relation  to 
Protestantism,  26,  143- 145,  162, 
244  ;  his  system,  145  ff.  ;  contrasts 
with  Pelagianism,  160  ff.  ;  his 
doctrine  of  predestination,  145, 
152,  163  ff.  ;  his  influence,  138, 
162  ;  on  atonement,  218,  222, 
233>  23^  I  on  justification,  143, 
253-255 

Balfour,  A.  J. ,  178 

Barnabas,  epistle  of,  75 

Basilides,  59-60 

Baur,  12,  40,  45,  161,  192,  228, 
3*3 

Bellarmine,  on  justification,  252  ;  on 
merits,  264 

Bernard,  on  atonement,  28,  230-231, 
275  ;  on  merits,  251,  253 

Bushnell,  on  Anselm,  227  ;  on  atone¬ 
ment,  339,  341 

Calixtus,  289 

Calvin,  144  ;  on  atonement,  239  ;  on 
good  works,  258  ;  genius  of,  270, 
283,  296;  influence  of,  290-291; 
his  system,  291-292  ;  doctrine  of 
predestination,  292  ff.  ;  criticism, 
294 

Calvinism  and  Arminianism,  295  ff. 

Canon  of  New  Testament,  64-66 

Celsus,  Baur  on,  40  ;  his  True  Word , 
40-42  ;  causes  of  failure,  42-45 

Chalcedon,  Council  of  (451  A. D. ), 
191  ;  its  Creed,  190  ff.  ;  194-195, 
197,  201 

Chalmers,  Dr.,  23 

Christology,  27  ;  of  Apostolic  Fathers, 
75  ff.  ;  of  Apologists,  78  ff.  ;  Chris- 
tological  controversies,  174  ff.  ; 
their  origin,  175  ;  character,  177  ; 
Apollinarianism,  179  ff.  ;  doctrine 
of  Theodore,  183  ff.  ;  Nestorianism, 
185  ff.  ;  Eutychianism,  189  ff.  ; 
Monophysitism,  194  ff.  ;  Monothe- 
litism,  197  ff.  ;  defects  of  ancient, 
176,  180,  193-194,  203;  Lutheran, 


287-288  ;  gains  of  modern  Christ¬ 
ology,  175,  330  ff.  ;  modern  spec¬ 
ulative  theories,  331  ff.  ;  Schleier- 
macher,  331-332;  Ritschl,  332- 
333;  the  “historical”  Christ, 
334-335  I  Kenotic  theories,  205, 
337 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  61,  81  ;’  on 
Trinity,  82-83  ;  on  Spirit,  125 
Clement  of  Rome,  75  | 

Coccejus,  his  federal  theology,  302- 
3°4 

Coelestius,  155,  159-160 
Conditional  immortality,  350 
Constantinople,  Council  of  (381 
A.D.),  120,  123,  129 
Council  of  Robbers,  191 
Creeds,  Reformation,  18  ;  value  of, 
280  ff.  ;  their  comprehensiveness, 
281-202  ;  scriptural  character  of, 
18,  283 

Criticism  and  theology,  7-8,  316, 
355 

Cunningham,  Dr.  William,  252 
Curcellaeus,  299 

Cyril  of  Alexandria,  his  character, 
186  ;  as  theologian,  186-187,  189  ; 
at  Council  of  Ephesus,  188  ;  196- 
197 

Deism,  in  England,  306 
Descartes,  influence  of,  302  ;  his 
philosophy,  304-305 
Diognetus,  epistle  to,  3,  213 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite  (pseudo-), 
197-199 

Dioscurus,  190-192 
Dogma,  objections  to,  5  -  8  ;  and 
doctrine,  12-13;  alleged  Greek 
origin  of,  6,  55,  62-63,  69,  74, 
84,  85,  toi ,  123,  193,  etc.  ; 

criteria  of  dogmas,  14  ff.  ;  tested 
by  history,  17  ;  relation  to  evolu¬ 
tion,  19  ff. ,  31  ;  law  of  develop¬ 
ment  of,  20,  23,  30 ;  parallelism 
of  logical  and  historical  orders,  21 
ff.  ;  limits  to  progress,  31  ;  since 
Reformation,  280,  285  ff.  See 
‘  ‘  Logic  ”  of  Dogma 
Dorner,  on  early  theology,  63  ;  on 
baptismal  formula,  75  ;  on  Justin, 
79;  on  Arius,  1x3,  116;  on 

Apollinaris,  180;  on  Monophysites, 
195  ;  on  atonement  in  early  Church 


INDEX 


363 


213 -214,  217;  on  justification, 

234,  272  ;  on  Methodism,  300 
Dort,  Synod  of,  its  Calvinistic 
decisions,  298-299 
Duns  Scotus,  232,  235 
Dyothelitism,  199  ff. 

Ebionites,  75 

Election.  See  Predestination 
Ephesus,  Council  of  (431  A.D.),  188 
Epiphanius,  on  Spirit,  127 
Episcopate,  early  views  of,  68 
Episcopius,  297,  299 
Eschatology,  29  ;  interest  of  modern 
age  in,  29,  280,  348  ;  in  early 
church,  346  ;  Mediaeval,  29,  347  ; 
Reformation  view,  29,  347  ;  in¬ 
fluence  of  modern  spirit,  347  ff.  ; 
difficulty  of  problem,  348  ;  modern 
theories — universalism,  etc.,  349  ff. 
Eunomians  (Arians),  113 
Eutyches,  his  doctrine,  27,  190  ff.  ; 
condemned  at  Constantinople,  190  ; 
at  Chalcedon,  191-192 
Evolution  and  man’s  origin,  327- 
330  ;  and  sin,  328 

Fatherhood  of  God,  166,  239,  324- 
325>  343  !  Christ’s  doctrine  of, 
325-326 

“  Filioque  ”  clause,  130-131 
Formula  of  concord,  270,  288 
Francke,  289 


236-237,  239,  301,  342-344  ;  im¬ 
manence  of,  323-324 

Grace,  doctrine  of,  in  Eastern  Church, 
26,  153  ;  Augustine  on,  149  ff.  ; 
Pelagian  view  of,  158-159  ;  Semi- 
Pelagian  view  of,  160  ff. 

Gregory  Nazianzen,  106,  128  ;  on 
atonement,  217 

Gregory  of  Nyssa,  106  ;  on  atone¬ 
ment,  217 

Grotius,  his  “governmental”  theory, 
300  ff. 

Harnack,  Professor,  Greek  origin  of 
dogma  (See  Dogma)  ;  on  Sabatier, 
io-ii  ;  on  apologists,  25,  48  ff. , 
78  ff.  ;  on  early  Christology,  76- 
78  ;  on  Arianism,  109  ;  on  Au¬ 
gustine,  136,  138,  140,  142,  146, 
164  ;  his  History  of  Dogma ,  6,  12, 
22,  26,  49-53.  55-56,  59,  61-65, 
69,  75-76,  78,  81-82,  90-91,  xi2, 
113,  127,  138,  140,  142-143,  175- 
177,  189,  191,  193,  210,  218, 

219  ;  on  Origen’s  view  of  atone¬ 
ment,  215  ;  on  close  of  develop¬ 
ment,  279 

Hatch,  Dr.,  51,  55,  64 

Hegel,  12,  22,  59  ;  his  philosophy, 
313  ;  on  religion,  321 

Hernias,  Shepherd,  of,  71  ;  his  Christ¬ 
ology,  77 

Hippolytus,  59,  74,  91 

Honorius,  Pope,  201 


Germany,  influence  of,  on  theology, 
3i5 

Gnosticism,  24,  35  ;  Harnack’s  view 
of,  55,  63  ;  gravity  of  crisis,  55  ; 
rationale  of,  57  ;  Gnostic  systems, 
58  ff. ;  leading  features,  60;  decline 
of,  61  ;  effects  on  Church,  62  ff. , 

87 

God,  doctrine  of,  74  ff.  ;  early  Trini¬ 
tarian  views,  74-87  ;  Monarchian- 
ism,  87  ff.  ;  Arianism,  108  ff.  ; 
Macedonianism,  124  ff.;  Augustine 
on  God,  135,  145-146,  152,  163- 
164  ;  Anselm  on  God,  222  ff.  ; 
love  of  God  the  cause  of  redemp¬ 
tion,  218-219;  233,  238,  275, 

293-295,  324  ;  Fatherhood  of  God, 
166,  239,  324-327,  343  ;  judicial 
character  of  God,  224,  227,  233, 


“  Illuminism  ”  in  Gemiany,  307; 
counteracting  influences,  307-308 

Impersonality  of  Christ’s  humanity, 

2IS 

Infallibility,  Papal,  93,  160,  200, 

279 

Irenaeus,  64,  66-68  ;  his  theology, 
70,  74  ;  on  Trinity,  81  ff.  ;  on 
Spirit,  125  ;  on  atonement,  213- 
214 

Justification  by  faith,  in  Augustine, 
143,  253  -  255  ;  importance  of 

doctrine,  244  -  245  ;  relation  to 
pre- Reformation  views,  246,  248 
ff.  ;  influence  of  sacramental 
principle,  248  ff.  ;  harmony  with 
earlier  piety,  250  ff. ,  253  ff. ;  “  self¬ 
estimate  ”  of  godly  men,  251  ff.  ; 


364 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  DOGMA 


relation  to  atonement,  255  ff.  ; 
meaning  of  doctrine,  256  ff. ,  268  ; 
Pauline  view,  259  ff.  ;  Luther  on, 
258-259,  260-261  ;  contrasts  with 
Tridentine  doctrine,  262  ff.  ;  later 
controveries,  269  ff.  ;  Osiander’s 
view,  271  ;  Lutheran  controversies, 
272;  the  ordo  salutis,  273-274; 
the  Socinian  opposition,  274-276 
Justin  Martyr,  his  apologies,  37-39, 
45-48.  52-53  I  his  theology,  52- 
53,  80,  125 

Justinian,  his  “three  chapters,”  196- 
197 

Kant,  147  ;  his  influence,  308,  312  ; 
his  philosophy,  312-313,  321  ;  his 
rationalism,  313  ;  on  primacy  of 
practical  reason,  313,  321  ;  on 
Kingdom  of  God,  313,  325 
Kingdom  of  God,  313,  325,  332- 
333-  353 

Lange,  on  election,  169 
Latin  theology,  its  contrast  with 
Greek,  26,  137;  its  representatives, 
26,  137 

Leo  the  Great,  his  “Tome,”  191- 
192 

Limborch,  279-280  ;  347 
Locke,  306 

“Logic”  of  dogma,  9,  22  ff. ,  30, 
87,  hi,  115,  129,  135-136,  174, 
179,  182,  195,  198-199,  210,  220, 
243-244,  248,  254,  255-256,  269, 
272,  284,  295,  337,  352 
Lucian  the  Martyr,  109 
Luther,  16  ;  on  atonement,  236, 
238  ;  Church  consciousness  of, 
253  ;  on  justification,  245,  256, 
258,  260  ff. 

Lutheran  controversies,  272  ff.  ; 
Christology,  281  ;  scholasticism, 
288  ;  confessional  party,  314 

Macedonian  controversy  (on  Spirit), 
25>  73  I  its  rise,  127  I  Council  of 
Constantinople,  129,  130 
Marcion,  59,  62,  65 
Marcus  Aurelius,  36,  37 
Melanchthon,  287,  288 
Melito  of  Sardis,  37,  74 
Methodius,  on  Spirit,  127 
Minucius  Felix,  37 


Monarchian  controversies,  25,  87  ff.  ; 
their  origin,  88  ;  forms  of  Mon- 
archianism,  89  ;  view  of  Holy 
Spirit,  126 

Monophysite  controversies,  27,  193, 
195  ff.  ;  sects,  195,  196  ;  imperial 
edicts,  196  ;  the  Fifth  Council, 
197 

Monothelite  controversy,  27,  197  ff.  ; 
its  phases,  199  ff.  ;  imperial  action, 
198,  200 ;  Sixth  Council,  201  ; 
review  of  controversy,  201  ff. 

Nazarenes,  75 

Neander,  98,  99,  '  107,  137  ;  on 

Augustine,  140,  151,  177,  180, 
183,  186,  191,  199,  202,  231-233 

Nestorius,  his  doctrine,  27,  185  ff.  ; 
conflict  with  Cyril,  187  ;  con¬ 
demnation  at  Ephesus,  188 

Newman,  Dr.  J.  H.,  theory  of 
development,  10,  142  ;  on  justi¬ 
fication,  259 

Nicaea,  Council  of  (325  A.D.),  117  ; 
creed  of,  119,  126 

Ophites,  58 

Origen,  Against  Celsus,  40  ff. ,  51  ; 
on  Trinity,  85-87  ;  on  Spirit,  125- 
126  ;  on  atonement,  215 

Pantheism,  305,  323 

Patripassianism,  25,  90-91;  of 

Praxeas,  92  ;  of  Noetus,  93,  178 

Paul  of  Samosata,  78,  91  ;  his 

character,  91  ;  his  doctrine,  100- 
101  ;  modern  analogies,  102,  178 

Pelagius,  26,  154  ;  contrasts  with 
Augustine,  155  ff.  ;  his  doctrine, 
159  ;  Pelagian  controversy,  26, 
159  ff. 

Pietism.  289  ;  its  decline,  290 

Platonism,  influence  of,  69,  84,  87, 

no,  175 

Predestination,  in  Augustine,  142, 
152-153,  162  ff.  ;  in  Reformers, 
144  ;  in  Lutheranism,  287  ;  in 
Calvin,  291,  292-295;  supra- 

lapsarian  view,  296  ;  sublapsarian 
view,  296  ;  Arminian  view,  297  ; 
criticism  of,  162,  292 

Quadratus,  37 


INDEX 


Rationalism,  in  Europe,  296 ;  its 
causes,  304  -  306  ;  in  eighteenth 
century,  306  -  308  ;  in  nineteenth 
century,  312-3 14 

Reformation,  age  of,  265,  286,  304 
Reformed  Church,  its  influence,  291  ; 

scholasticism  in,  302 
Reformers,  29  ;  agreements  in  doc¬ 
trine,  224,  256  ;  on  predestination, 
144;  on  atonement,  233  ff. ,  254- 
255  ;  their  Catholicity,  247,  251  ff. ; 
on  justification,  256  ff. ,  268-269; 
oppositions  to,  271  ff. 

Regeneration,  relation  to  justification, 
273 

“  Regula  Fidei,”  66  ff. 

“  Remonstrance”  (Arminian),  its  five 
points,  296  ;  at  Dort,  298 
Renan,  on  Marcus  Aurelius,  36 
,Revival  of  learning,  285,  304 
Ritschl,  A.,  64  ;  on  Anselm,  210  ;  on 
Bernard,  231  ;  on  schoolmen,  232  ; 
on  penal  suffering,  233  ;  on  Re¬ 
formation  doctrine  of  atonement, 
236-238;  on  “religious  self¬ 
estimate,”  252  ;  on  Catholicity  of 
Reformers,  252  ;  on  justification, 
258  ;  on  union  with  Christ,  271  ; 
on  ordo  salutis,  273  ;  Ritschl’s 
theology,  314;  Christology,  334- 
335  ;  “  religious  ”  and  “  theoretic  ” 
^knowledge,  332 

Sabatier,  A.,  5,  10-11 
Sabellianism,  its  origin,  94  ;  its 
Trinity,  95  ;  its  defects,  97-98  ; 
modern  views,  95,  178 
Sanday  and  Headlam,  on  Romans, 
258-260 

Schleiermacher,  his  influence,  313  ; 
his  theory  of  religion,  313-314  ;  his 
school,  314  ;  his  Christology,  331- 
332 

Scientific  temper  of  age,  effects  on 
theology,  315  ff. 

Semi-Pelagianism,  160-163 
Sin,  Tertullian  on,  26,  137  ;  Mani- 
chaean  view  of,  140,  146  ;  Augus¬ 
tine  on,  26,  146  ff. ,  156,  222; 
Pelagian  view  of,  155  ff.  ;  punish¬ 
ment  of,  224,  227,  237,  301,  341- 


365 

344  ;  Romish  doctrine  of  sin,  264, 
267  ;  sin  and  evolution,  328 
Socinianism,  objections  to  atone¬ 
ment,  274  ff.  ;  in  Holland,  299-300 
Soteriology.  See  Atonement,  Justifi¬ 
cation,  etc. 

Spener,  289 
Spinoza,  305 

Spirit,  Holy,  doctrine  of,  124  ff.  ;  in 
early  church,  125  ;  in  fourth  cen¬ 
tury,  126-127  ;  Macedonian  con¬ 
troversy,  128  ff.  ;  addition  to 
Nicene  Creed,  129 

Tertullian,  26  ;  as  apologist,  45-46, 
48,  51  ;  on  Marcion,  59,  61,  64, 
67-68  ;  on  Trinity,  80-82  ;  on 
Spirit,  125  ;  on  sin,  137 
Theodoret,  187-188,  191 
Theodotians,  90 

Theology,  its  legitimacy,  8-9  ;  char¬ 
acter  as  science,  10  ff. ,  31;  the 
“  new  ”  theology,  7,  318  ;  divisions 
of,  21  ;  progress  in,  30-32  ;  post- 
Reformation  influences  on,  285-286, 
304  ff.,  315;  nineteenth- century 
influences — philosophical,  312  ff.  ; 
scientific,  315  ;  task  of  re-construc¬ 
tion,  317;  sense  of  unity  in  modern 
theology,  319  ;  theology  of  future, 
353 

!  Theophilus,  37,  40,  79,  80,  125 
Tridentine  doctrine,  of  justification, 
144- 1 45,  261  ff.  ;  of  penance,  206 
Trinity,  doctrine  of,  73  ff.  ;  Tertul¬ 
lian  on,  81  ;  Irenaeus,  81  ;  Alex¬ 
andrian  fathers,  84-87 ;  Sabellian 
theory,  95  ;  Augustine  on,  135, 
145  ;  Reformers  on,  283 

Universalism,  15 

Valentinus,  56,  59,  61,  82,  85 
Voetius,  302 
Voltaire,  307 

Wesleyanism,  300,  307 
Witsius,  303 
Wolff,  C.,  305 


Zahn,  on  Apostles’  Creed,  67 


' 


|P  'rn  t|?i  J,h^ol°9ical  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1  1012  01037  3225 


DATE  DUE 


r . .  . 

i  -  i  s 

. ■  ,!!.,  y, TIU  tf'.r  > 

Mao  fi 

iirin  0 

^  ms 

Wft  1 

5  199 5 

DEMCO  38-297 


